


The Innocent Have Nothing to Fear

by can_i_slytherin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Getting Together, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, US Supreme Court, Winter Soldier Trial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/can_i_slytherin/pseuds/can_i_slytherin
Summary: Bucky turns himself in, and now faces the Supreme Court in a trial for his freedom over what the Winter Soldier did. Will he walk free, or does resurfacing all this pain and violence he caused get him stuck on The Raft forever?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 7
Kudos: 145





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Savi909](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savi909/gifts).



_ "Breaking News: James Buchanan Barnes, more widely known as the Winter Soldier, has turned himself in to the local authorities in New York."  _

As the headline was read out, Steve's head snapped towards the TV in the Tower's Common Room and everyone turned to him with cautious gazes. 

" _ The police have informed us that Barnes walked into the Precinct at 0900 this morning. He was reportedly unarmed and without his infamous prosthetic and went willingly into custody. The police have charged him with 42 counts of murder and High Treason and are awaiting a decision from the Supreme Court in regard to a trial date."  _

"We need to-" Steve began, but cut himself off when the words got stuck around the lump in his throat, "Is there anything we can do?" 

"Other than get him the best lawyer in the state, no, not really." Tony whispered, "Barnes did this off his own back, though, so that should give him some points in his favour." 

Steve whined pitifully and buried his head in his hands, trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyes, "Why didn't he tell me? I coulda helped him."

"Steve." Natasha whispered from across the room, "I think that's the point. He didn't want to drag you down with him."

Sam made a noise of agreement, "Nat's got a point." 

The redhead snorted, "Of course I do."

Steve lifted his head, eyes glassy with tears, "I'm going with him either way, whether he wants me to or not. I lost him once, I refuse to lose him again." 

"And you won't." Sam soothed, "We'll sort it out, Rogers." 

Steve inhaled deeply, curling his fingers in his hair, and nodded gently, having complete confidence that his friends could handle it. 


	2. Chpt 1

_ Dear Captain S.G.Rogers,  _

_ I hope that you are well, as you may already know, Mr Stark has hired me as Sergeant Barnes' defense attorney and has requested that I reach out to you to testify for James. _

_ Would you be willing to speak for James?  _

_ If you could let me know by the end of the week, I would be grateful.  _

_ Please call me at 646-555-5545 with your answer.  _

_ Kind Regards,  _

_ Pamela Stockbrook.  _

_ Attorney at the Association for the Defense of Veterans.  _

Steve stared down at the letter, tightly gripping the paper, and reached for his phone without hesitation. He punched the digits into the screen and dialed the number, putting the phone to his ear. 

" _ Good evening, this is Pamela Stockbrook. Who's speaking?"  _ A woman's voice sounded through the speaker and Steve perked up. 

"Hi, Ma'am. This is Steve Rogers, I'm callin’ about the letter that you sent me," Steve explained, moving to sit on his sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. 

" _ Captain Rogers, sir! Thank you for responding so quickly! _ " Pamela helped excitedly. 

Steve chuckled, "Please, Steve is fine." 

" _ In that case, Steve, I assume you have an answer for me, and a rather quick one for that matter. I thought you might need more time to deliberate. _ " 

"There's no doubt about where I want to be with this case, Miss Stockbrook," Steve explained. 

" _ And where is that, Captain Rogers? _ " 

"At Bucky's side," The Captain replied without missing a beat. "I'll testify for him, Ma'am." 

" _ Brilliant, _ " there was a brief pause on the other end before Pamela spoke again. " _ We haven't received a trial date yet, but I will let you know as soon as we do. Thank you, Captain, your contribution is greatly appreciated. _ "

Steve shook his head, despite the fact that she couldn't see him, "No need to thank me, Ma'am. When it comes to Buck, I'll do anything without question."

" _ You're a good man, Steve, and I look forward to working with you. _ " 

The blond chuckled, "Likewise. See you soon, Pamela." 

" _ Indeed. Goodbye, Captain."  _

The line went dead and Steve startled when his phone beeped loudly in his ear, signalling that he'd received a message. 

_ Prosecution wants me to testify against Barnes for the murder of mom and dad -TS _

_ Do what you have to do, Tony. I understand. -SR _

_ You sure? -TS _

_ Yes, Tony. It's fine. -SR _

_ It just doesn't feel right. -TS _

_ So, do what you feel is right. -SR _

_ Good advice, Capsicle. -TS _

_ I can’t tell if you're being sarcastic. -SR  _

_ I'm not. We need more people in this world who do what's right and not what's easy. -TS _

_ Very inspirational. -SR  _

_ I learnt from the best. -TS _

_ What about you, did you get asked? -TS _

_ Of course. Defense wants me to testify for him. -SR  _

_ You gonna? -TS  _

_ Stupid question, of course you are. -TS  _

_ You're a good man, Steve. -TS _

_ So are you, Tony. Don't forget it. -SR  _

_ Roger that, Captain. -TS  _

_ I'm gonna ignore the obvious pun. -SR  _

Steve rolled his eyes fondly, feeling marginally better after having spoken to the engineer, and set his phone on the side only to pick it up a few seconds later when it started ringing. 

“Rogers speaking,” Steve relayed into the mic, putting the call on speaker.

“ _ For a supposed spy, you really don’t check your caller ID enough _ ,” Sam’s amused voice rang through the room. 

“I’m not Natasha, Sam,” Steve replied, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

Sam made a noise of agreement, “ _ Don’t I know it. _ ” 

Steve groaned and buried his head in his hands, “I don’t wanna know.”

“ _ Anyway, there’s a reason that I called.”  _

“Really?” Steve drawled sarcastically. “This isn’t just one of your relentless 9pm phone calls?” 

Steve could practically hear the eye roll, “ _ You need to stop talking to Stark, _ ” there was a sharp inhale before Sam spoke again, “ _ Prosecution got in touch _ .” 

Steve stiffened, sitting up straight, and his breath caught in his throat, “Right, what did you say?”

Sam chuckled, “ _ Told ‘em to piss off. Defense called too. _ ” 

Steve’s eyebrows shot into his hairline, “You couldn’ta lead with that? _ ” _

“ _ Course not, wanted to make you sweat. _ ” 

Steve rolled his eyes, “You’re a dick.” 

“ _ You love it, _ ” Sam replied. 

The blond arched an eyebrow, “And you’d know that, how?” 

__ “ _ Tony and I talk, _ ” the smile was evident in his voice and Steve couldn’t help but smile too. 

“Tony can’t be trusted.” 

“ _ I don’t hear a denial, Cap, _ ” Sam whispered and, though he couldn’t see him, Steve knew that he was wiggling his eyebrows. 

“You don’t hear one ‘cause there ain’t nothing to deny," Steve smirked. “Though, I won’t lie, I have thought about it.” 

“ _ Dude! _ ” Sam yelled, fake-gagging. “ _ I did not need to know about your sexual fantasy about Tony _ .” 

Steve laughed, “Now you know how I feel about you and Natasha.” 

“ _ Yeah, but Nat’s hot though. _ ” 

“So’s Tony, if you’re into that.” 

“ _ Which I’m not. _ ” Sam insisted. 

“Which you’re not,” Steve repeated. “Unless, you know, you’re denying it because you secretly want some.” 

“ _ I hate you and I’m hanging up. See you tomorrow, dick.”  _

“Bye, Sam,” Steve sang, an amused smile tugging at his lips and, just as Sam hung up, the phone rang again. 

Steve rolled his eyes, tipping his head back to rest on the back of the couch, “Can’t a man catch a break? You’d think the world was ending.” 

He clicked the green button, answering the call, and held the phone between his ear and shoulder, reaching for the TV remote. 

“ _ Steve. _ ” 

“Hey, Nat. What’s up?” He flicked the TV on and turned to the Discovery channel, deciding that he would binge nature documentaries for the rest of the evening.

“ _ Prosecution got in contact _ ,” she explained, short and precise.

“That seems to be the topic of all my conversations tonight,” Steve sighed. “They want you to testify?” 

“ _ Obviously, _ ” she drawled,.“ _ Something about having a ‘close connection with the Winter Soldier’ and how that makes me the best candidate for, and this is a direct quote here, ‘bringing him down’. _ ” 

The blond rolled his eyes, it seemed to be a recurring action, “And you said?” 

“ _ Thanks, but no. Besides, I already said yes to the defense. I’m not going to bring down my brother. _ ” 

Steve sniggered, “Are you and Sam in cahoots with each other?” 

“ _ Always, _ ” she replied. “ _ He get called for both as well? _ ” 

Steve nodded before realising that she couldn’t see him and facepalmed, “Yeah. Told me that prosecution contacted him before he told me that he would be standing in defense of Buck.” 

Steve could hear her smirk when she spoke, “ _ Great minds think alike, _ ” the blond hummed in agreement. “ _ Anyway, that’s all I wanted you for. See you tomorrow?”  _

“Of course, bye Nat.” 

  
  
  
  


Later that evening, Steve’s phone rang again, this time with an unknown number and he hesitated as he answered, speaking wearily into the phone. 

“Hello?” 

“ _ Is this Captain Steven G. Rogers? _ ” The man asked, his words clipped and professional. 

“Yeah. Speaking?” Steve whispered, brows furrowed together in confusion. 

“ _ You have a call from the Raft, do you accept?”  _

Steve took a second to process the words before his heart leapt into his throat at the revelation that  _ Bucky  _ was calling him, “Yeah, of course.” 

The line disconnected before reconnecting again and Bucky’s hesitant voice sounded through the speaker, “ _ Steve? You there? _ ” 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders slumping and chest feeling a million times lighter, “Yeah, Buck, of course I am,” he leant forward and rested his forehead against the coffee table. 

“ _ Good, I gotta ask you for a favour. _ ” 

Steve startled, screwing his eyes shut, and he took a shaky breath in, “Anything.” 

“ _ You can’t come see me, okay? _ ” Bucky whispered and, in that moment, Steve’s heart shattered. 

“Why?” He croaked, tears springing to his eyes. 

“ _ I don’t want you seeing me like this, Steve. I don’t want this to be how you remember me, _ ” he whispered and Steve could hear the pain in his voice. 

The blond laughed wetly, “You’re makin’ it sound like a death sentence, Buck.” 

Bucky chuckled and Steve could listen to that sound for hours, “ _ I know. But, I mean it, Steve. Don’t come here, okay? You hearing me? _ ” 

“Crystal clear,” Steve drew in a sharp breath when a tear landed on the back of his hand and he hastily wiped at his eyes, refusing to let Bucky know that he was crying. 

“ _ Guards are tellin’ me that my time with the phone is up now. But, I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t do anythin’ stupid until I get back. _ ” 

The blond laughed and fondly shook his head, “How can I? You’re takin’ all the stupid with you.” 

Steve could hear Bucky’s smile when he spoke, “ _ Punk. _ ” 

“Jerk. To the end of the line, right?” Steve whispered, a hint of insecurity slipping into his voice.” 

“ _ To the end of the line _ .” 

The line went dead and Steve cradled the phone in his hands, staring down at the blank screen. He tried to ignore the gaping hole in his heart and the tightness of his throat. 

He would see Bucky again, that much was true, just much sooner than the other man was anticipating.


	3. Chpt 2

Despite Bucky’s insistence for him to stay away, Steve arrived at the holding facility two days after the initial arrest and demanded that he be taken to see the brunet. It had been kind of amusing to see the guards scurrying about like ants to arrange a visitors' ID and Steve did feel bad for pulling the ‘ _ I’m Captain America _ ’ card, but he needed to see Bucky or he’d pull his hair out in stress. 

Steve approached the cell, the prison guards following close behind him, and he fought the urge to tell them to back off, turning his attention to Bucky. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve whispered. 

Bucky was sat in the far corner of the cell, back pressed against the wall, with his head tipped forward, hair falling out of its haphazard bun and into his eyes. Under different circumstances, Steve would have said it was beautiful, but the ugly orange jumpsuit clashed with the gorgeous grey of his eyes and made him look sickly. 

“Told you not to come, Rogers,” Bucky grumbled, lifting his head to look at Steve over his lashes. “Never did listen, did you?” 

“I couldn’t just leave you alone here.” Steve refuted, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. 

“I’m plenty fine, Steve,” the brunet mumbled. “Stop worrying about me.” 

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause you telling me not to worry is just gonna negate all my feelings,” the Captain drawled, arching an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest like a disapproving housewife.

“Never said that, now did I?” Bucky replied. “You’re just a pig-headed punk.” 

“Jerk,” a gentle smile pulled at Steve’s lips and his heart soared when he saw a mirror of the action cross Bucky’s own face. 

“What are you doing here, Steve?” 

The blond tried not to be offended, “Wanted to see you.” 

“Why?” Bucky arched an eyebrow, unfolding from his position in the corner before he stood up and steadily approached the glass window separating him and Steve. 

Steve shrugged, plunging his hands into his pockets and kicking absentmindedly at the floor, “Wanted to make sure they were treating you right, Buck.”

“Course they are,” Bucky replied, splaying a palm across the glass. “You don’t gotta worry, Stevie.” 

Steve’s heart warmed at the old nickname and he lifted his hand, placing it over Bucky’s, “Course I do. That’s the whole point, ain’t it? I worry about you, you worry about me.” 

“You’re insufferable,” Bucky whispered, shaking his head fondly. 

“Yeah, but you love me,” Steve retorted, a gentler smile taking over.

“For some odd reason,” there was a light in Bucky’s eyes that Steve hadn’t seen since the forties and it gave him a spark of hope. “Now, you get outta here. Go hang with Natalia or Wilson and, hopefully, next time we see each other there ain’t gonna be glass separating us.” 

“You never know, Buck,” Steve whispered and there was a darker, more insecure edge to his voice that struck sadness into the depths of Bucky’s soul. 

“Hey,” he whispered, trying to catch Steve’s gaze. “look at me,” Steve lifted his head. “Atta boy. Now, I’m supposed to be the insecure one in this arrangement, you better not worry yourself too much otherwise I’ll let  _ Natalia _ kick your ass.” 

“I’ll try, Buck, but only ‘cause you threatened me with Natasha,” Steve smirked and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“I see how it is,” Bucky replied, feigning hurt. “Won’t do it outta your love for me, but for your fear of Talia.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Steve looked visibly distressed and Bucky took pity on him. 

“I’m kidding. Now, get going! I’ll be fine.” 

The Captain arched an eyebrow, “You sure?” 

“Yes!” he yelled in exasperation. “Go, Stevie. I’ll see you soon.” 

Steve turned on his heel, sparing a loving glance over his shoulder before exiting the wing flanked by two guards. It was only when he had completely disappeared from sight that Bucky allowed himself to truly feel the anxiety that he had concerning his trial. 

It could go either way and, judging by everything that Stockbrook had told him about their stance, he hoped that the jury would find him not guilty- if not for his own peace of mind, then for Steve’s.

  
  
  
  


As promised, Steve went home and phoned Natasha and Sam, asking if they’d want to hang out. Thankfully, they had agreed and Steve had ordered pizza under the promise that the couple would supply beer and cheesy movies. 

Though Steve hadn’t expected that to mean sprawling across the floor in a blanket fort, watching old rom-coms flanked by Sam and Natasha; the heroine deciding to use Steve as her pillow. 

“What next?” Sam whispered as the credits to Pretty Woman began to roll and pushed himself. 

“I vote Princess Bride,” Natasha whispered, snuggling further into the fluffy blanket precured from Steve’s linen closet, and looked up at the blond with an expectant gaze. 

He shrugged, “I’m good with whatever.” 

Sam chuckled, “Princess Bride it is then.”

The winged hero put the DVD into the player and settled back against the wall of cushions, an arm behind his head, as he waited for the title screen to load. 

Soon enough, the film had begun and all three heroes were immediately tugged into the storyline of the 80s rom-com, giggling and rolling their eyes at the countless clichés. 

Halfway into the film, Natasha turned her gaze to Steve, staring up at him with curious eyes, “How’s  _ Yasha _ ?” 

Steve smiled softly, “He’s okay, I think. They’re treating him well- better than HYDRA ever did when he was their prisoner.” 

Natasha made a noise of agreement and gently tapped Steve’s chest, “He’ll be fine, he’s strong.” 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed. “I know.” 

Natasha’s attention returned to the film and Sam caught Steve’s gaze over her head. 

_ You okay?  _ He mouthed and Steve nodded, smiling wide and honestly. Sam grinned, satisfied with the answer, and turned back to the film, chuckling when Natasha reached out to him, linking their hands together. 

  
  
  
  


It was early in the morning when the three of them finally fell asleep, Clueless playing in the background, and they were rudely awakened at 8:30am when Steve’s phone blared a tune from its place on the coffee table. 

The three heroes startled awake and simultaneously groaned. 

Natasha hit Steve with a pillow, “Who is calling you at this ungodly hour?” 

“Hell if I know,” Steve grouched, blindly groping the table for his phone, and grunted triumphantly when he found the device, quickly answering it. “Hello?” 

“ _ Captain Rogers, I didn’t wake you, did I? _ ” The abnormally chipper voice of Pamela Stockbrook sounded through the speaker. 

“Yeah, but that’s okay. Is everything alright, Pam?” Steve whispered and chuckled when Natasha and Sam both perked up, staring at the blond with expectant looks. “Natasha and Sam are here too, can I put you on speaker?” 

“ _ Of course, that makes my job easier, _ ” Pamela replied and waited for a few seconds whilst Steve put the phone on loudspeaker. “ _ Good morning, Miss Romanov, Mr Wilson. _ ” 

“Morning,” they replied in unison. 

“ _ We’ve received a trial date, _ ” there was a pause and everybody in the room held their breaths. “ _ It is in two weeks time on October 19. I trust that you’ll all be there? _ ” 

“I figured we’d have to be, as moral support for both James and Tony,” Natasha replied. 

Pamela chuckled, “ _ Yes, that would make sense. Well, I’ll leave you all to your day. I trust that you’ll tell all those that require the information. _ ” 

“Of course, Ma’am,” Steve replied. “Though I can imagine that the prosecution have already told their witnesses.” 

“ _ Of course. Well, I will leave you to enjoy the rest of your morning in peace. Apologies for waking you. _ ” 

The three of them made dismissive noises and Sam spoke up, “It’s okay, Pam. We’ll see you soon.” 

“ _ Indeed, goodbye. _ ” 

They all gave their various parting words before the line went dead and Natasha turned to Steve with a cheeky smile. 

“You treating us to breakfast, then?” She teased. “It was  _ your  _ phone that woke us up.” 

“Oh, I’m using that for future reference when  _ your _ phone wakes  _ me  _ at the ass-crack of dawn,” Sam replied, arching an eyebrow at the redhead. 

She elbowed him and smiled sweetly, “As if you aren’t already awake.” 

“Back to breakfast,” Steve reminded, smirking amusedly at the lovers’ quarrel. “Mama Imelda’s sound good?” 

Natasha's stomach grumbled in response, “I think that’s the answer that we need, right?” 

“Right,” Steve confirmed. “You two can use the shower in the guest room to freshen up, I think I have some of your stuff in the closet in there, but you’ll need to check.” 

“Thanks, Steven,” Natasha whispered and vaulted out of the blanket fort, closely followed by Sam. 

“I hate you!” Steve yelled after her. 

“Love you too!” She yelled back from the depths of the apartment. 

Seconds later an alert flashed on Steve’s phone and he sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. 

_ Breaking News: Winter Soldier Trial Date Released! _


	4. Chpt 3

The weeks leading up to Bucky’s trial were filled with frantic, late night musings between the trio of heroes with the occasional addition of Tony, and early morning calls from Pamela to prepare them for the upcoming trial. 

Though nothing in the entire multiverse could have made him ready for the sight that was James Buchanan Barnes in cuffs and an orange jumpsuit, led into the dock like a lamb to slaughter. 

He looked worn down and tired, like he hadn’t slept in a month which, in all fairness, he probably hadn’t. Despite the obvious exhaustion, Bucky held his head up high and met the gaze of any that dared look his way, throwing them an arched eyebrow and a challenging look; he seemed every bit the Bucky that Steve knew in the forties.

But, despite his outside confidence, Steve saw the edge of insecurity to his expression. He saw the way he hunched his shoulders as he sat down; the way he curled into himself, trying to make himself seem small and helpless, even though he was everything but.

Steve yearned to touch him, to comfort him, but he dug his nails into the hard wood of the bench and stayed firmly where he was, refusing to take his eyes away from Bucky, even for a second. 

“All rise for the Justices,” the Clerk of the Court announced and the entire courtroom pulled themselves to their feet to greet the 9 Justices as they entered. 

“Thank you. You may be seated,” Chief Justice Harriet Anderson spoke, lowering herself into her seat, smiling when the courtroom followed in suit. She turned to her colleagues and smiled. “Shall we begin?” 

“I hereby call to start the trial of the People of the United States vs the Winter Soldier, the date is October 19, 2024 and the time is 11:10,” the Clerk announced and, just like that, the trial began. 

“Would the prosecution provide an opening statement to the court?” Justice Anderson questioned, looking pointedly at the Prosecution Attorney Daniel Richards. 

“Gladly, your honor,” Richards stood from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it for support. “I would like to begin by saying that this is the trial of the decade, if not the century. The man that has been put to trial before you, ladies and gentlemen, is a dangerous, cold-hearted man- a killer who knows no mercy and I must assure you that this man will be brought to justice for his crimes, that his victims will find peace in his prosecution.” 

Steve snorted in disbelief at the statement and leant over to Sam, “Do you reckon he can see with his head shoved so far up his own ass?” 

“Steve,” Sam hissed, though Steve could see the smile that tugged at his lips and he smirked to himself before turning his attention back to Daniel Richards. 

“For seventy years, this man has been nothing more than a ghost story- a myth, if you will- and has evaded both capture and prosecution. What I wish to know is why is it now that the Winter Soldier has chosen to turn himself in? Is it some part of an ongoing plan to destroy the United States? Well, that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I plan to uncover today. I plan to prove to you that the Winter Soldier is guilty and deserves to rot in a cell for his crimes against this country.” 

Steve’s grip tightened on the arm of the bench, so much so that a low crack could be heard as the wood began to splinter, leaving tiny shards embedded in his palm. A hand settled over his and Steve turned to its owner, smiling half-heartedly at Natasha. She coaxed his grip away from the bench and pulled his hand into her own, linking their fingers together with a pointed look. Steve smiled and squeezed her hand in thanks. 

“Thank you, Richards. Will the defense please step forward and release their statement?” Justice Anderson gave Pamela a curt nod. 

“My statement is simple, your honors. The man sat there is not the Winter Soldier,” Pamela stated in a matter-of-fact tone, ignoring the outraged whispers. “that man there is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th. War hero, survivor, best friend. He is many things, but a murderer is not one. In this trial, I wish to expose the idea that James and the Winter Soldier are in fact two different people and that the man that stands trial today is as innocent as we all are,” Pamela returned to her seat, throwing a gentle smile at Bucky before she did and he smiled in thanks, his eyes shining with unshed tears. 

  
  
  
  


The first witness was called to the stand shortly after the opening statements and upon the man’s entry, Bucky flinched, squaring his shoulders and averting his gaze, almost like he was scared of the man. 

Steve watched the gesture with a feeling similar to being stabbed through the chest with a sword of ice and ached to comfort the brunet, but instead chose to tighten his grip on Natasha’s hand. 

“Please state your name, date of birth and occupation for purposes of identification,” the Clerk ordered.

“Certainly,” the german-accented voice bled through the speakers in the courtroom and Bucky flinched at the sound, curling further away from the man in the adjacent dock. 

Steve ached to protect him, certain that this man had something to do with the years of torture that Bucky had endured at the hand of HYDRA. 

“My name is Dr. Betram Herwig born February 15, 1969, I am retired now, but I was a scientist,” Herwig explained. 

“Very good,” the Clerk leant forward and plucked a bible from her desk, walking over to the stand that housed Herwig. “Place your left hand on the bible and raise your right hand,” the doctor did as he was told. “Now, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“I must confess that I am not a very religious man. However, I do,” he replied. 

“Very well,” the Clerk stepped away, nodding to Richards as she returned to her seat. “You may begin questioning the witness, Richards.” 

“Doctor Herwig, is it true that you were remanded into custody on June 12, 2004 for your crimes as an agent of HYDRA?” Richards asked, cautiously approaching the scientist. 

“Yes.” He replied, gaze falling to Bucky. “it is.” 

Steve got the overwhelming urge to hurdle the gate and pummel the man within an inch of his life for daring to look at Bucky, but Natasha’s grip steadily tightened, serving as a reminder of where he was. 

“And is it true, Doctor, that before your capture in 2004 you worked closely with the Winter Soldier?” Richards took another step towards the man. 

“Yes.” 

“Good. Now, Doctor Herwig, after having worked close with the soldier, can you tell us, to the best of your ability, how intense the soldier’s programming was?” Richards arched an eyebrow, glancing expectantly at his witness. 

Bucky visibly stiffened, fingers curling around the reinforced chain of his handcuff, and Steve felt sick, this man was about to release the darkest of things about what had been done to Bucky. 

“The Asset-” 

Herwig was cut off by Bucky, “My name is Bucky.” 

Steve felt a swell of pride, catching the brunet’s gaze from across the room, and threw Bucky a warm, supportive smile. 

“The  _ Asset, _ ” Herwig insisted, “was conditioned in many ways.” 

“Can you be specific, please?” 

Herwig smiled villainously, “Of course. Most of the time, he was brain-wiped, that made him easier to control. If he forgot who he was, then he had no cause to fight us.” 

“Very well and when he was, as you called it, brain-wiped, was he compliant to given orders?” Richards pushed. 

“Oh, well, you had to use the triggers first for him to be truly  _ ready to comply _ .” The man grinned wolfishly when Bucky visibly shuddered. 

“I wanna knock his teeth out,” Steve growled through gritted teeth, careful not to raise his voice and disturb the session. 

“You need to calm down, if Bucky sees you upset, it’s going to stress him out. Just stay calm. You can rant about it after the trial,” Natasha whispered back, tightening her grip on Steve’s hand. 

He took a deep breath and nodded, turning his attention back to the room. 

“Fine, once these  _ triggers  _ were used and the soldier was  _ ready to comply  _ with orders-”

The Chief Justice cut Richards off, “Mr. Richards, please refrain from using the phrase ‘ready to comply’, the defendant is visibly distressed and we need him to remain calm.” 

“Of course, your honor. My apologies.” 

Steve noted that Richards didn’t seem at all apologetic and concluded that he wanted to knock his teeth out too. 

“Once the soldier was wiped and the triggers had been used,” Richards reiterated. “he would do as he was told, correct?” 

“That is quite right, yes.” 

“How hard would you say it was for the soldier to break through the conditioning?” 

“Nearly impossible,” Herwig explained. “But, not improbable.” 

“What do you mean by that, Doctor?” 

“I mean,” Herwig’s gaze fell to Bucky again and he smirked. “it happened, of course. But only three times.” 

“You are referring to the incident after Harry Baxtor’s death, I assume?” Herwig nodded. “I would like to submit EXHIBIT 29, a mission report, to the court, please.” 

“Continue,” Justice Anderson replied. 

“Doctor Herwig, could you please read the footnote for everyone?” 

“Gladly,” Bucky flinched and Steve’s stomach turned over. “ _ Mission successful, but Asset went MIA. Two weeks after the incident was found in NYC in a flophouse- looked dazed and confused. It broke the programming. Recommended treatment: ECT and CGT.  _ That is Electro-Convulsive Therapy and Cryogenic Treatment.” 

“Objection, your honor, relevance?” Pamela questioned. 

“Sustained, get to the point Richards.” 

“Very well, Ma’am.” Richards replied, “My point is, Doctor Herwig, that could the Soldier have broken free from programming during previous missions and have completed the missions so as to arouse suspicion?” 

“I’m afraid that I don’t understand the question,” Herwig replied, head cocked to the side in confusion. 

“If the soldier had broken the programming before and acted as if he hadn’t, would you have known?” 

“I can’t say, I don’t believe it has ever happened before,” Herwig explained honestly.

“Very well, but if the Soldier had broken free would he have continued the mission in order to keep himself safe from the consequences?” 

“It is possible, yes.” 

“So, it is possible to state that James Barnes may have knowingly committed some of the atrocities of the Winter Soldier?”

“Objection, your honor, speculation.” Pamela argued. 

“Sustained. Refrain from leading the witness, Richards.”

Richards stepped away, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, “Very well, then I have no further questions, you honor.”


	5. Chpt 4

“Doctor Herwig,” Pamela walked up to the stand. “as we’ve already established, you have worked with James Barnes during his incarceration with HYDRA.” 

“I wouldn’t call it an incarceration, Ma’am.” 

“Was he not held as a prisoner, Doctor? Given the bare minimum to eat, kept in terrible conditions- mostly in a cell with little to no contact with other humans- and being stripped of his humanity?” 

“Objection, your honor, where are the facts?” Richards questioned. 

“I’m glad you asked,” Pamela replied. “I would like to submit EXHIBIT 43 to the court- a page from one of Arnim Zola’s notebooks.” 

“Objection denied. Continue, Miss Stockbrook.” 

“Thank you, your honor. For the benefit of the court, Doctor, will you read the excerpt for me, beginning at ‘We have found’ and ending with ‘for future sessions’.” 

“Of course,” Herwig plucked the papers from her fingers and laid them on the shelf in front of him. “ _ We have found, in recent sessions with the soldier, that it works better with little food and no human contact. It is more eager to comply when isolated- this must be noted for future sessions. _ ” 

“Now, from this we get the basic facts: James Barnes was kept without food away from any human contact minus that of the HYDRA agents that were stationed with him and we know, from research and previous case files, that these agents are not nice men. The needs for basic human function are food, hydration, warmth and love. It is clear that James Barnes did not receive any of these things from his captors, thus he was not able to function as a normal human. As for his humanity, it is clear that the HYDRA agents considered James an object rather than a person due to their blatant disregard for pronouns and discontinued use of his name,” Pamela ranted. “Would you say that this is true, Doctor Herwig?” 

Herwig tilted his head to the side, contemplating, before he nodded, “Yes, that is spot on.” 

“So, essentially, what you’re saying is that Mr. Barnes was tortured during his incarceration?” 

“Yes, that is very much true,” Herwig replied, a wolfish grin on his face. 

“Objection, your honor, relevance?” Richards added. 

“Sustained, what’s your point, Miss Stockbrook?” Justice Anderson questioned, arching an eyebrow at the defence attorney. 

“My point, your honor, is that to say James Barnes would  _ willingly  _ commit murders for an organisation that tortured him and ripped away his humanity is absurd and, quite frankly, insensitive.” Pamela explained. “Though I have one final question: how many missions was James sent on?” 

“Objection, relevance.” 

“Denied, please answer the question, Doctor Herwig.”

“Of course. As far as I am aware, the Soldier was sent on 112 missions,” The Doctor explained. 

“And, Doctor, can you confirm how many of these missions James broke his conditioning on?” She questioned. 

“Three.”

“So, that is 2.68% of the time, correct?” 

“Roughly, yes.” 

“So, it is safe to say based on the statistics and facts, as a scientist, that James was unable to break his conditioning a majority of the time?” Pamela quizzed. 

“You’d be correct in saying so.” 

“Thank you, Doctor Herwig, no further questions.” 

  
  
  
  


“The Prosecution would like to call Daniella T. Gibbs to the stand.” 

The Clerk spoke up, “Mrs Gibbs, please state your name, date of birth and occupation for the court for purposes of identification.” 

“Daniella Theresa Gibbs, born on July 11, 1958. I was Senator Baxtor’s cleaner, I am now a volunteer at a homeless shelter.” 

She was a greying woman, with streaks of ginger through it, and vibrant green eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose and a pale complexion, making the blemishes stand out even more. Despite her age, she carried herself with pride and was a prime example of a woman that had aged very well. 

“Thank you, Mrs Gibbs,” she approached the stand again, bible in hand. “Place your left hand on the bible and raise your right hand,” Daniella obeyed. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“Of course, I do,” she whispered. 

“Thank you. You may begin questioning the witness, Mr Richards,” the Clerk returned to her seat. 

“Wonderful,” Richards walked towards the stand, leaning against the edge. “Mrs Gibbs, you mentioned earlier that you were Senator Baxtor’s cleaner earlier, correct?” She nodded. “Good. Senator Baxtor, for those of you who do not know, was murdered in his pool on March 12, 1973 by the Winter Soldier- the man that you see in the dock today," Richards turned back to Daniella. “Can you, to the best of your ability, describe, in detail, the day that you found Senator Baxtor?” 

Daniella shrugged her shoulders, seeming younger than she actually was, “I’ll try,” she took a deep breath. “It was a Monday and I always worked the evening shift on a Monday. When I arrived at Senator Baxtor’s house, I assumed that there was no one there because, when I called out, no one answered. So, I went about my nightly duties of cleaning the house.” 

“And why did you not find it suspicious that no one answered you when you called?” Richards asked. 

“Surely you can answer that yourself, my boy, but in the case that you can’t: I wasn’t suspicious because he was the senator and he was always away on business, so I figured it was another such time and he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten to inform me,” she replied. “May I continue with my original statement now?”

“Of course,” he gestured at her to continue. 

“Thank you,” she fiddled with the sleeve of her jacket. “Anyway, I was cleaning the guest bedroom upstairs- the window overlooked the garden and, subsequently, the pool- and I just happened to look outside to see Senator Baxtor on his front, in the pool. When I looked towards the back gate, I was certain that I had seen a man standing there, but when I looked again the man was gone and in his place was a tree. I think I hallucinated the man to come to terms with Senator Baxtor’s death.” 

“But, in the case that you did not imagine that man, would you say that the man in the dock was the man that you saw that day?” 

Daniella regarded him for a moment, head tilted, “I couldn’t say, the memory is very hazy and this was a very long time ago. The defendant looks very different to the man I supposedly saw that day.”

“Thank you, Mrs Gibbs, no further questions.”

“Mrs Gibbs,” Pamela addressed the woman as she approached the dock. “I have one simple question for you: did James Barnes kill Senator Baxtor?” 

“No, no I don’t believe he did,” Daniella whispered. “As I told the prosecution, my memory of that day is very hazy and I could, quite possibly, have made the entire thing up as a way of coping with the trauma that I had been exposed to. To make it more tangible. It was easier to accept that he had been murdered rather than to have killed himself.” 

“And what makes you believe that Senator Baxtor killed himself, Ma’am?” 

Daniella shook her head, “The autopsy report done by the police placed traces of alcohol in his system which means that he fell into the pool, but was too inebriated to pull himself to the surface and thus drowned.” 

“We have the autopsy report here, your honors. Alongside a mission report of the same night from HYDRA’s archives- the night, as we are aware, that James Barnes broke through his conditioning for the first time,” Pamela explained. “Mrs Gibbs could you please read the time of death from the autopsy report?” 

“ _ The time of death is estimated to be around 21:45 on March 11, 1973, _ ” she relayed. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Gibbs, and could you also read the footnote at the bottom of this mission report, please?” 

“Of course,” she hunched forward. “ _ Soldier dropped off at 23:05- relayed information that target was already incapacitated. Told to return to pickup point, did not make it. _ ” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Gibbs,” Pamela pulled the papers away. “This, therefore, is solid, concrete evidence that James Barnes did not kill Senator Baxtor and that it was merely a tragic accident. Thus, the prosecution has no case here and I would like to appeal to the Justices to dismiss the witness. Thank you, your honors, no further questions.” 


	6. Chpt 5

“Can Abigail Fitzgerald please take the stand?” 

Abigail was a young woman, mid to late-twenties, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was tall and walked with confidence, dropping into the chair with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“For purposes of identification, please tell us your full name, date of birth and occupation.”

“Abigail Susan Fitzgerald. January 14, 1990. I’m a Kindergarten teacher.” 

The Clerk of the Court stood up and thrust the bible at Abigail, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“I’m an atheist, but yes,” Abigail replied, smiling gently at the Clerk as she stepped away. 

“You may begin questioning, Mr. Richards.” 

“Thank you,” Richards advanced towards the stand. “Miss Fitzgerald, you are the daughter of Harrison Fitzgerald, is that correct.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Wonderful and your father, Harrison, died on August 6, 1994, is that correct?” He questioned. 

“That is.” 

“Good,” Richards paused for a second, throwing a gentle smile at Abigail. “And to the best of your ability, Miss Fitzgerald, can you recount the events of that evening?” 

“I’ll try. I was quite young, you see,” she shuffled forward in her seat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “It was a Saturday evening, very late at night. I had gone downstairs for a drink and, when entering the kitchen, I saw my father, laying on the tiles with a man standing over him. He had a knife in his hand, one of the kitchen knives from the block, and it was dripping with blood. God, the smell was horrendous.” 

“You say that you saw a man, Miss Fitzgerald, standing over your father’s dead body?” She nodded. “Can you confirm that it was the same man sitting there today?” Richards pointed to Bucky. 

She nodded her head, “Yes. It is, without a doubt. He’s a lot bigger now and more kempt, but definitely the same man.” 

“Is there anything else you remember about that night?” 

She nodded again, “Yes. When he noticed that I was there, the man turned around, looked me dead in the eye, before turning and walking away.” 

“And why do you think that was, Miss Fitzgerald?” 

It was Bucky that spoke up, shocking the entire courtroom into dead silence, “It wasn’t within mission parameters to kill his daughter.” 

Justice Anderson turned to Bucky with a surprised look, “You remember the mission, Sergeant Barnes?” 

Bucky titled his head, brow furrowed in confusion, “Bits and pieces. I remember the ass-whooping for not following orders, though.” 

Uneasy laughter spread through the courtroom. 

“What do you mean, Sergeant?” Justice Anderson questioned. 

“By which part, your honor?” 

“Not following through with orders.” She clarified, “You told us that it wasn’t within mission parameters to kill Abigail. But, you tell us that you didn’t follow orders, how?” 

“I think,” Bucky frowned, head cocked in thoughtfulness. “I think they said to eliminate the witness, but it was too dangerous- there were too many police and it would look too obvious that a hit’d been placed on Fitzgerald and the feds’d start sniffin’ around places that they didn’t belong. They didn’t agree, but the Soldier refused to go back and, as punishment, was hooked up and beaten.” 

“Did you break your programming that day, Sergeant?” 

Bucky shook his head, “No, your honor, it was different. The Soldier was in control the whole time, knew that it was illogical to go back to the scene of the crime- possibility of capture was too high.” 

“Thank you. You also said that you were hooked up, what did you mean by that?” Justice Anderson questioned. 

“The literal sense of the word, Ma’am. Two meat hooks, straight through my shoulders and strung up from the ceiling by chains.” 

In the crowd, Steve took in a sharp breath, tears springing to his eyes as he thought of the immeasurable pain that Bucky had endured under HYDRA, and his grip briefly tightened on Natasha’s hand. The redhead threw him a half-smile and rubbed her thumb across his knuckles, attempting to soothe him. 

_ He’ll be okay,  _ she mouthed. Steve nodded and returned his attention back to the trial.

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes for that,” Bucky nodded before falling silent again, gaze trained on his lap. “You may continue with your questioning, Mr. Richards.” 

The prosecution attorney spluttered and nodded, “Thank you, your honor, erm, no further questions.” 

“Miss Stockbrook,” Justice Anderson addressed the defense attorney. “Do you have any questions for the witness?” 

“No, your honor, thank you; I believe that we have heard all that we need to.” 

  
  
  
  


The Prosecution’s second-to-last witness was called to testify, “Please state your name, date of birth and occupation for purposes of identification.” 

“Aaron Baker, I was born on June 17, 1963 and I am a retired chemist.” 

He was a balding, grey-haired old man with bright blue eyes that held more stories than the stars. He walked with all the confidence of a 20-year-old man, but with the bone structure of a fifty-six-year-old. 

“Thank you, place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” the Clerk ordered. “Now, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“Yes, dear, of course.” 

“You may begin, Mr. Richards,” the Clerk returned to her seat, letting Richards approach the stand in her wake. 

“Mr. Baker, is it true that on April 22, 1983 you were attacked by this man on the Hell Gate Bridge into New York?” Richards questioned. 

“Yes.” 

“Can you give us an account of that evening, as best as you can, please?” Richards leant back on his desk, watching Baker with a curious look. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t call it an evening though, it was very early in the morning- about 03:30 and I was on my way home from a night shift at my lab just outside of New York City,” Baker paused for a second. “I was on my way back into New York, it was really quiet, barely any other cars on the road, but that’s to be expected when it’s pushing 04:00,” there was a rumble of laughter through the room before it fell silent again, allowing Baker to finish his testimony. “It was dark too, so I didn’t see the man standing in the middle of the road until it was too late. I thought that I would run him over, but before I could hit him, he just side-stepped away from the car. I slammed on the brakes and was so shaken up about it that I just sat in the car for a few seconds, contemplating whether to get out. But, then I had no choice, I guess. This arm, silver and metal with a red star on the shoulder-bicep area, just came through the window, shattering it completely, and I was pulled out of the car, thrown onto the road, a good few feet from my car- shattered my shoulder with the way I landed.” 

Baker shook his head, sighing heavily, “Then, the man stalked over to me, a murderous look in his eyes and his gun raised right between my eyes. I tried to talk to him, but he just wouldn’t listen- didn’t even speak when I asked him questions, just kept the gun trained on me.” 

“Did you fear for your life, Mr. Baker?” 

The man chuckled, “Of course I did, son. I had a gun pointed at my head, any sane person would get scared about that. But, I know how to keep my cool.” 

“Did he hurt you at all, Mr. Baker? Other than the previously discussed shoulder injury?” 

“Yes, shot me in the thigh. Hurt like a bitch,” Baker replied. “He punched me in the face too with that metal arm that he had and knocked the front rows of teeth out. I tried to take the gun from him, but he broke my wrist- snapped it in two like it was a piece of uncooked spaghetti.” 

Everyone winced at the thought and a sharp inhale, followed by a shudder came from the dock on the judge’s right-hand side. Justice Anderson cast a glance at Bucky, checking that he was in a stable mindset, before she motioned for Baker to continue. 

“Is that all the injuries that you sustained that evening, Mr.Baker?” 

“Yes, I’m lucky that it was- the day could have gone a lot worse. But, I’m still here, living to tell the tale, and that’s enough for me,” Baker nodded his head, gaze shifting over to Bucky for a millisecond, a glimpse of pity in his eyes, before he returned his attention to Richards. 

“How would you describe the attack that day, Mr. Baker?” 

“It was ruthless, vicious. He wanted to hurt me, wanted to see me in pain. It was psychotic, but precise- like he’d grown up doing this. Like it was what he was made to do. He wanted to do it, almost as if the world would be a better place with me gone,” Baker explained, his eyes flitting over to Bucky again, sighing sadly, pursing his lips in thought.

Richards smirked smugly, taking a step away from Baker, “Thank you, Mr. Baker, I’m so sorry that you had to experience that. No further questions.” 


	7. Chpt 6

“Hello, Mr. Baker,” Pamela whispered, strutting over to the dock. “Can you continue with your statement, please? I do believe that there is more to the story.” 

Baker cocked his head, “I’m sorry?” 

“I would like to submit EXHIBIT 19 to the court, Mr Baker’s mission report,” Pamela turned to Justice Anderson, throwing her an expectant look, and nodded in thanks when the woman gave the confirmation to continue. “Mr. Baker, for the benefit of the court, will you please read the last paragraph entitled ‘ _ Mission Outcome’ _ ?” 

Baker shuffled forward, plucking the paper from Pamela’s hand and began to read the paragraph, “It says:  _ Mission Outcome: Failed to terminate. Soldier broke programming- refuses to tell us where the target is. Recommended treatment: Information retrieval by temporary affliction. ECT. CGT. _ ” 

Bucky flinched, taking in a shaky breath, and there was an ominous creak from the chair that he was sitting on as he gripped it with his flesh hand, digging his nails into the grain. A memory of that day flashed in his mind and he tried to shake it away, refusing to be pulled in. He focused on his breathing, finding Steve’s face in the crowd, and smiled when the blond frowned, holding a hand to his heart and nodding gently, an action so small that it wouldn’t be noticed by anyone not looking for it. 

“Are you okay, Sergeant Barnes? Do we need to call recess?” Justice Anderson whispered. 

Bucky shook his head, “No Ma’am, I’ll be fine. Please, continue.” 

Justice Anderson didn’t look convinced, but she nodded at Pamela to continue with her questioning. Bucky tried to focus on his breathing, thinking happy thoughts that would push away the darkness that came with memories of HYDRA, and found himself staring at Steve again, listing his favourite parts of the man in his head like a mantra. The task distracted him enough to lift the weight from his chest and calm his racing heart, his therapist would be proud. 

“Mr. Baker, due to the nature of the mission report, we can tell that the hit placed on you was a kill order. We know that Sergeant Barnes failed to cooperate because not only does the mission report say so, but you are here with us today and I think that’s all the evidence we need, don’t you?” Baker paled, gaze flicking towards Richards, but nodded gently. “Wonderful. So, pray tell, Mr. Baker, what else happened that evening?” 

Baker sighed, “Well, just before the man was going to pull the trigger, I yelled that I had a son. His name is Jeremy- he was three at the time, but such a sickly child, so frail and skinny. I told him all of this, how Jer’s mother had died and that I was the only thing that he had left. I needed to be there for him. Something changed, the man staggered back, like he’d been punched, and fell against the railing, gripping his hair in his fists. He started shaking, rocking back and forth, and he whispered something, a name.  _ Stevie. _ ”

Steve, in the gallery, leant forward in his seat, wrenching his hand from Natasha’s, and fixed his gaze on Bucky, tears gathering in his eyes, “Buck,” he breathed, trying and failing to keep his emotions in check as a tear slipped down his cheek. 

As if Bucky had heard him, which he probably had, he lifted his head, catching Steve’s gaze from across the room, and shook his head, an eyebrow arched at him- almost chastising him. Steve chuckled, the sound wet with tears, and shook his head back, rejecting the idea of looking away. 

“Steve?” Natasha whispered, hand placed between his shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles into his spine. “You need to take a minute?” 

“He remembered me.” 

“I know. I know,” she soothed. 

“I wasn’t there.” 

Natasha made a noise of disapproval, “Steve. Don’t do that to yourself.” 

Steve shook his head, burying his face in his hands, and took a deep, shuddering breath, “We can talk about it later.” 

She nodded in agreement, keeping a hand on his spine, and rubbed nonsense patterns into his back, hoping to soothe him. 

Baker continued with his testimony, catching Steve’s attention, “After that, he looked up and told me to run and hide, he said to take my son and leave the country because it wasn’t safe for me anymore. I didn’t want to believe him at first, but he said that HYDRA controlled him and that they were after me and that they wouldn’t stop until I was dead. He looked so scared and confused, so different from the man that had originally attacked me that I felt like I had no choice but to believe him. Before I left, though, I asked him what would happen when HYDRA found out that I’d escaped. He looked even more scared in that moment, but plastered a smile on and shook his head, told me not to worry about him, that he could handle himself. I told him that he didn’t have to, he smiled and said: My Stevie said the same thing once.”

Steve made a pained noise, brow furrowing to match, and cocked his head to the side, a questioning look made purely for Bucky. The brunet nodded and Steve’s heart shattered, his head falling into his hands as he tried to hold back another wave of tears to no avail. 

“A cell phone chimed and he was shaking when he took it out of his pocket. He looked at me, eyes full of fear, and just shook his head, told me that they were coming and to get out of there as fast as I could. I was so scared for him, but I didn’t want to die there, so I turned tail and ran back to my car, driving away. I got my son and we left the country, moved to Somalia. I don’t know what happened to him after, but judging by his expression I’d have said that it wasn’t pleasant.” 

“Thank you for that, Mr. Baker,” the man waved her off and she chuckled. “You refer to your attacker that day as ‘the man’, you never reference James’ name directly. Was Sergeant Barnes the man that attacked you?” 

“He was.” 

Pamela smiled, “Would you say that there was a direct difference in your attacker and the man that told you to run away?” 

“I would, yes. The man that attacked me was blank and emotionless- like a robot, designed to do one thing and one thing alone. He was scary, inhuman. There was nothing there, like someone else was pulling the strings. But, the man that told me to run, he was sentient. He was  _ there.  _ He knew what he was doing, he was in control and the other man, my attacker, he’d taken the backseat. There was something human about this man, like a veil had been lifted from over his eyes, he had thoughts, feelings and emotions. It was like watching someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder have a switch.” 

“So, you’re saying that there were almost like two different people?” Pamela questioned. 

“Yes, very much so, and the man sat in that dock- that’s the man that saved my life. Not the man that tried to kill me.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Baker, no further questions.” Pamela stepped away, trying to hide her triumphant smile. 

There was a chorus of surprised gasps and whispers that spread throughout the courtroom, each in various stages of disbelief. But, Steve didn’t care- all he felt was the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around Bucky and never let go. 


	8. Chpt 7

“The Prosecution would like to call our final witness to the stand. Mr. Tony Stark.” 

At that moment, pandemonium broke loose. There was uproar in the gallery, people howling and applauding as the engineer and superhero stepped into the dock, looking at peace with all the attention. 

“I think you’ll find,  _ Mr.  _ Richards, that it’s  _ Dr.  _ Tony Stark- I didn’t get three doctorates for you to call me  _ Mr, _ ” Tony snarked, reclining in his chair, and grinned when a round of laughter broke out within the courtroom. He caught Steve’s eye and winked conspiratorially. 

“ _ Doctor  _ Stark,” the Clerk of the Court called, sounding exasperated. “For purposes of identification, can you tell us your full name, date of birth and occupation, please?” 

“Can I?” Tony whispered, smirking amusedly when the Clerk rolled her eyes. 

“May you?” 

“I may.  _ Doctor  _ Anthony Edward Stark, May 29, 1970. I am a genius, playboy, millionaire, philanthropist,” Tony replied, grinning cheekily, and arched an eyebrow at the bible that was shoved under his nose. 

“Place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” she ordered. 

“I’m loving the whole dominatrix thing, but I’ll sooner swear on a stapler than that bible- God never did me any favours, you see,” Tony replied. 

“ _ Doctor  _ Stark!” Justice Anderson snapped. “Please take this seriously or we  _ will  _ dismiss you.” 

Tony held his hands up in mock-defense, “Alright, jeez, just trying to lighten the mood on this sad-fest,” he rolled his eyes, following the Clerk’s previous order. 

“Thank you,” she replied. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“I think we've already established that I don't believe in God,” Tony whispered, a sly smirk on his lips, and the Clerk rolled her eyes at him, although he could see amusement twinkling within her irises. “Fine. I do.” 

She nodded her head in thanks and trotted back over to her seat, motioning for Richards to take the floor, “You may begin questioning, Mr. Richards.”

Richards took a step forward, approaching Tony in the dock, “Mr. Stark,” he began, but Tony pointedly ignored him. “Mr Stark?” 

“Oh!” Tony exclaimed. “Were you talking to me? I didn't notice, you see, as you used the incorrect title. I thought we had discussed that I had three doctorates for a reason?” 

Richard sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of the nose, and shaking his head, “ _ Doctor  _ Stark, your parents were Howard and Maria Stark, no?” 

“Congratulations you know how to read a Wikipedia page,” Tony drawled sarcastically. “But yes, they were.” 

“And they died on December 16, 1991 in a car crash, correct?” 

“You sure do seem to know your stuff, not quite sure what you need me here for. But yet again, you are correct,” he replied. 

“What do you know about the circumstances of their death?” 

“Haven't we already discussed that they were in a car crash?” Tony arched an eyebrow at Richards, throwing him a sarcastic smile when the man shot a questioning look at him. “All I know is that HYDRA killed my parents.” 

“You mean the Winter Soldier?” 

Tony shook his head, an amused breath falling from his lips, “No, I mean HYDRA.” 

The engineer’s gaze found its way to Bucky and he threw the brunet a soft smile, a feeling akin to fondness settling in his chest as he watched the man fail to cover his grin behind his hand. Tony tore himself from his trance, ripping his attention away from Bucky and back to the Prosecution Attorney. 

“The Winter Soldier was an agent of HYDRA, was he not?” Richards whispered and Tony was vastly amused by the obvious frustration that the man was feeling. 

“Yeah I reckon he was.” 

“So, do you believe that James Barnes killed your parents?” 

Tony shook his head, “No,  _ James Barnes  _ didn't kill my parents. The Winter Soldier did. HYDRA did.”

Bucky’s head snapped up, locking gazes with Tony, and he tilted his head to the side in confusion, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Tony shook his head at the brunet, a smile catching at the corners of his mouth, and tore his gaze away, catching Steve’s attention instead. 

The blond arched an eyebrow, surprise evident on his face,  _ What are you doing? h _ e mouthed. 

_ The right thing,  _ Tony replied, his smile growing in size. 

Richards recoiled in shock, obviously not expecting that answer that Tony had given him, and cleared his throat before talking again, “Is James Barnes not the Winter Soldier then?” 

“No,” Tony argued. “because the man sitting there is not a murderer. James Barnes is not a murderer because James Barnes is not the Winter Soldier.” 

"Care to elaborate Mr-" The engineer threw him a pointed look. " _ Doctor  _ Stark?"

"Gladly." Tony sat forward, forearms resting on the top of the dock. "James Barnes isn't the Winter Soldier because the Winter Soldier is not one person. It is a group of people, a parasite growing within SHIELD for 70 years, that we failed to recognise and, in turn, failed James Barnes and countless others like him. So, if you ask me, Mr. Richards, if James Barnes killed my parents, then the answer is no. The Winter Soldier did- _HYDRA_ did. The man sitting in that dock is a scapegoat, he's tangible and able to blame because how can you put on trial an organisation of people that, in theory, never existed?" 

"Are you telling me that the Winter Soldier is innocent?" Richards questioned. 

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, "Did you hear any of what I just said?" 

"Answer the question, Doctor Stark," Justice Anderson interjected. 

Tony mock-bowed, "No, Richards, I'm telling you that James Barnes, the man sitting here today in that dock, is an innocent man. He is a victim, a prisoner and a survivor, who has been failed by his country. James Barnes is many things, but a murderer is not one and I will fight tooth and nail to prove that to you. If it means that I have to give up my fortune, my company or, hell, even my suits, then so be it because that man's freedom-" Tony cut himself off, shaking his head, and his expression softened into something different as he glanced over at Bucky. "No, that _man_ means more to me than anything else.” 

Hell broke loose in the courtroom for a second time since Tony’s arrival and the billionaire sat back in his seat, watching the chaos of his confession erupt around him. Amidst the craziness, he found Bucky’s gaze and threw a warm smile at the brunet. 

_ I’ll get you out of this, _ he mouthed. 

Bucky nodded in thanks, reaching up to brush some hair from his eyes,  _ I trust you.  _

Bucky turned his head, gaze finding Steve in the crowd, and Tony followed it, not bothering to ignore the way that the Captain’s eyes shone with undisguised love for the brunet. At that small display of affection, Tony knew that he had made the right decision and that he would get Bucky acquitted or die trying. 

Richards stammered around his words, struggling to pull a sentence together, and staggered away from the dock with a feeble, “No further questions.” 

Justice Anderson, trying to hide the amused expression on her face, turned to Pamela and smiled softly, “Would you like to question the witness, Miss Stockbrook?”

Pamela shook her head, gathering her papers, “No, thank you, Justice Anderson. I believe that Dr. Stark has already answered any possible questions that I could have asked.” 

Justice Anderson nodded, “Very well. Clerk?” 

She rose to her feet, “We have heard from all witnesses at the Prosecution, we shall call a recess and pick up on Monday. The time is 16:27, court adjourned. All rise for the Justices.” 

They shuffled to their feet, watching as the Justices left the courtroom in a flurry of robes, not to be seen again until they were called upon for the second trial.


	9. Chpt 8

Steve, Sam and Natasha held back after the trial, waiting for the room to clear out before they left, hoping that they wouldn’t get caught out by the press. 

Before Steve moved to step out the main doors, a hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him backwards. Steve whirled around, ready to push away whoever had touched him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he came face-to-face with Tony. 

“Tony, you alright?” Steve whispered, throwing the engineer a weak smile. 

The brunet nodded and grinned, “How you feeling, Cap?” 

Steve shrugged, twisting his wrist from Tony’s grip, and plunged his hands into the front pockets of his slacks, “I’m alright, I should be asking you the same thing.” 

Tony smirked in amusement, placing a hand over his heart and feigning surprise, “I wasn’t aware that Captain America could lie? Isn’t it, like, illegal?” 

Steve fondly rolled his eyes, gently shaking his head, “You’re insufferable.” 

The engineer shrugged dismissively, “Someone’s gotta look out for you whilst our resident Manchurian Candidate is in chains.” 

The blond sighed, “I’ll be fine, Tony.”

Natasha, who had been watching the exchange with an amused smile, made a noise of disapproval and stepped forward, “No, you won’t, Steve. You were a mess in there. It’s okay to ask for help, you know.” 

Steve hastily shook his head, “No, I gotta be strong for Buck. Show him that I support him.” 

“That’s a destructive way to live your life and, if  _ Yasha _ were here right now, he’d kick your ass and tell you the same thing.” 

Sam sighed, sensing that he’d need to step in as well, and caught Steve’s gaze, “If you want to be strong for Barnes, then you need to admit that you need help. Steve, you can’t go through this whole trial keeping your feelings to yourself because it’s going to destroy you.” 

Tony nodded in agreement, “Birdman 2.0 is right.” 

Sam barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes, flipping Tony his middle finger, “Fuck you, Tin-Man.” 

The engineer, like the child that he was, stuck his tongue out at Sam and turned back to Steve, “Regardless, Sam is right. We’re your friends, Steve, and we care about you and we don’t want to see you wither away into nothing because you’re refusing to accept help when you need it. You can’t do that to yourself, Bucky, or me. So, come back to the Tower and relax- you need to be around people at the moment and what better people than your friends?” 

“I just-” Steve cut himself off, sighing heavily, and his shoulders slumped as he looked down at Tony. The defeated look in his eyes making him seem much smaller than he really was. “I feel like, if Bucky can’t be happy and free, then I can’t either. I don’t want something that he can’t have.” 

“Steve,” Natasha breathed. “You’re making it seem like  _ Yasha _ has already been convicted, but he hasn’t. We will get through this- all of us, together, even if I have to break him out of prison myself.” 

“It don’t feel right.” Steve sighed, anger swelling inside of him. “He should be here, I should be able to hold him and comfort him and make sure that he doesn’t feel alone because he’s stuck in this fucking hellhole being convicted for a crime that he didn’t fucking commit because he was brainwashed, but the stupid fucking prosecution refuse to admit that because they’re a bunch of smug fucking bastards.” 

Tony arched an eyebrow at him, an amused smirk on his lips, “Feel better?” 

Steve looked back at Tony, tears gathering in his eyes, and nodded minutely before he broke down- the metaphorical dam behind his eyes shattering. 

Tony gathered the 6’2 wall of muscle in his arms and pulled them towards the fire exit, rubbing his hand soothingly across the Captain back, “Let’s get you out of here. People don’t need to see Steve Rogers in tears.” 

Natasha hung back, watching Tonny guide Steve from the building and into an awaiting limo, and turned to Sam, arching an eyebrow in question, “Did you see that?” 

Sam cocked his head, “See what?” 

Natasha shook her head and sauntered away, “Men,” she whispered before slipping out of the door. 

“Nat!” Sam yelled, jogging after her, and caught her arm, turning her around. “See what?” 

“Steve and Tony,” she replied, glancing at the car with a calculating look. 

“What about them? Tony was just being a good friend.” 

Natasha shook her head, “No, there’s something more to it. I saw the way that Tony was looking at Bucky and Steve. There’s more to it, there has to be.” 

Natasha went to walk away but Sam wrapped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer, “Okay, say there is? What can you do?” 

The redhead narrowed her eyes, “I can help them.” 

“I think they’ve got it all figured out, Nat,” Sam whispered, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “Just, let them come to terms with it in their own time, okay?” Natasha cast a sideways glance at the car and Sam squeezed her hip. “ _ Okay? _ ”

She nodded, “Fine. But, I’m definitely going to say that I told you so.” 

Sam rolled his eyes, “You can say whatever you want to me, just don’t meddle with them.” 

Natasha patted Sam’s chest and rocked forward onto her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Fine. Home now?” 

“Home now,” Sam confirmed and whisked her away to the car, dropping into the seat opposite Tony and Steve. 

The larger man was asleep, sprawled across the back seat with his head in Tony’s lap, and the brunet had his hands curled into Steve’s hair, twisting the strands around his fingers. 

Natasha watched the interaction with laser-like focus and Sam pinched her thigh, shaking his head. She held her hands up in defense and laid her head on Sam’s shoulder. 

“We’re all coming back to the Tower,” Tony stated, looking down at Steve with an unreadable expression. “I think that Steve will do better with us all there- I don’t want him sitting in his apartment and worrying himself sick over Bucky” the other two nodded, gazes falling to Steve. “We had a little talk before you guys got in, I’m gonna go see Bucky later- just check in on him and put Capsicle’s mind at ease.” 

“You’re a good man, Tony,” Sam replied, resting his hand atop Natasha’s thigh, the other coming to rest around her shoulders. 

Natasha grinned up at his sleepily and covered Sam’s hand with her own, wrapping her slender fingers around his, “He’s right.” 

Tony blushed and waved dismissively, “It’s what anyone would do.” 

She hummed in agreement, burying her face in Sam’s neck, and fell promptly to sleep. 

Tony smiled as Sam tightened his grip around her protectively, “You’re good for her.” 

Sam stared down at the ex-assassin with a look of adoration, features softening, “She needs a little good in her life, especially after all the bad.” 

Tony nodded in agreement, looking down at Steve with fondness in his eyes, “They both do.” 

  
  
  
  


It was later that evening when Tony strolled into the Raft, flashing his ID card at the guard, and took himself straight to Bucky’s cell, greeting the man with a soft smile. 

“Hey, Buckaroo. They treating you nicely?” Tony whispered, dropping himself to the floor in front of the glass, legs crossed. 

Bucky lifted his head from his position on the bed and rolled to his feet, dropping down in front of Tony and sitting in the same way, “I’m a prisoner, a criminal, Stark. There is no  _ nice. _ ” 

Tony arched an eyebrow, “I can change that, you know? I have the money.” 

Bucky shook his head, “I ain’t askin’ for your charity.” 

Tony chuckled, “You sound just like Rogers,” He shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. “It’s not charity though, Tall-Dark-and-Broody,” Bucky arched an eyebrow at him. “I meant what I said in my testimony.” 

Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, “I know, but I don’t deserve to get no special treatment.” 

“Of course you do,” Tony teased. “You’re friends with me. Might as well use your resources to your advantage," Bucky chuckled. “My point being,” the engineer’s expression softened and Bucky straightened slightly, head cocked to the side. “I want you to be comfortable, Barnes. I don’t want you suffering.” 

“You must be the only one,” Bucky averted his gaze, staring down at the floor beneath him, and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin atop them. 

“I’m not,” Tony tried to catch Bucky’s gaze, shaking his head when the Sergeant refused. “Steve doesn’t.” 

“Stevie don’t know what’s good for him.” He growled. 

“But he does know what’s good for you,” Tony countered. “He asked me to come here, you know?” Bucky’s head snapped upwards and Tony grinned. “Thought that’d make you look. I wanted to come anyway, but he asked me to. He wants to know that you’re okay, wants you to know that he’s waiting for you and that he isn’t giving up.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “He’s always been like that, just a kid from Brooklyn, too stupid to run away from a fight.” 

“He’s stubborn, I’ll give him that. But, he’s got a heart of gold, he cares,” Tony successfully caught Bucky’s gaze. “We all do.  _ I  _ do.” 

Bucky let out a puff of air, drifting into his thoughts before he resurfaced and smiled, an easy, teasing type grin, “I could do with a shave and a haircut, you know?” 

Tony barked out a laugh, rapping his knuckles against the glass, “Consider it done. We’ll get that beard and hair cleaned up in no time, you’ll look good as new, Buckaroo.” 

The Sergeant rolled his eyes, “You’re unbelievable.” 

“So I’ve been told.” 

Bucky’s gaze grew sincere and he smiled softly, “Thank you, Tony, really. I’m sure this means a lot to Steve and you really didn’t need to do this.” 

The engineer shook his head, “I didn’t do it just for Steve.” 

“I know.” 

Tony glanced down at his watch and sighed heavily, “I have to go.” 

“I know,” Bucky stood up and stretched out his back, Tony following in suit. 

“See you tomorrow?” Tony whispered and began to walk away.

“I’ll be there,” Bucky chuckled. “And, Tony?” The engineer stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Look after my Stevie until I get back.” 

Tony smiled, warm and fond, and nodded, “Always.” 


	10. Chpt 9

Day two of the Trial started much differently than the first. The Tower was filled with restless energy from the time that everyone woke up to the time that they all entered the courtroom. 

Steve shared a hug with Natasha and Sam before all three of them were whisked away into separate rooms to await their calling. 

Meanwhile, in the courtroom, the gallery was filled to the brim, Tony and Rhodey taking up residence in the front row. 

Tony caught Bucky’s gaze from across the room and smiled gently, throwing him a supportive thumbs-up. The Sergeant rolled his eyes, but the fondness held within the grey irises couldn’t be hidden, nor could the way that he visibly relaxed. Tony grinned, feeling better for having loosened some of the tension in Bucky, and turned back to the Clerk. 

She rose to her feet, “All rise for the Justices.” 

The nine of them walked into the room and the audience rose to their feet, waiting for them to sit down before taking their own seats. 

“Thank you,” Justice Anderson stated. “Shall we begin?” 

The Clerk nodded, “I hereby call to start the Trial of the People of the United States vs. The Winter Soldier; the date is October 20, 2024, it is day two of the trial, and the time is 11:20. You may begin.” 

Pamela trotted away from her desk and towards the panel of Justices, “Yesterday, we only scraped the surface of James’ personality. We have established who the Winter Soldier was, but today I aim to show you that James Barnes, the man on trial today, is a different person to the Winter Soldier,” Pamela turned to Bucky and shot him an easy smile. “I would like to call my first witness, Doctor Olivia Spencer, to the stand.” 

Olivia Spencer was a young woman, covered in freckles, with tight ringlets of ginger hair that framed her face, making her pale skin pop. Her forest-green eyes shone with millions of stars, each holding a different story, and she held herself with elegance and kindness, making herself seem both tall and small simultaneously. She dropped into her seat at the dock and nodded in greeting at Pamela, a soft smile settled on her lips. 

The Clerk spoke up, “For purposes of identification, please state your name, date of birth and occupation.” 

“My name is Doctor Olivia Francessca Spencer, I was born on November 9, 1979 and I am a Doctor at Washington General Hospital.” 

“Thank you,” the Clerk produced a bible. “Place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” Olivia complied. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“Of course,” She replied.

The Clerk turned her attention back to Pamela, “You may begin questioning.” 

Pamela nodded in thanks and took a step forward, “Good morning, Doctor. Is it true that, on April 7, 2014, Captain Steven Grant Rogers was admitted into your care at Washington General?” 

“It is," she replied. 

“Thank you,” Pamela smiled warmly. “Can you tell us, to the best of your ability, what happened that day?” 

“Gladly. Well, it was about two hours after the initial fall of the helicarriers,” she launched immediately into an explanation. “We had managed to fix up most of our patients, and had about 15 left in the waiting room, when Captain Rogers and his associate Mr. Wilson entered the hospital. Captain Rogers was quite beaten up and soaking, but Mr. Wilson insisted that he’d be seen by a doctor. He said that he found the Captain on the river bank, unconscious, and that he had fallen a great distance from one of the carriers into the Potomac River, but Rogers assured him that he could wait whilst the others were seen before him,” Olivia paused and brushed some hair from her eyes. “I was going to do exactly that when my superiors told me to treat Captain America first- he was a higher priority according to them. When I told him this, he kicked off and said that there were people in worse conditions than him. I agreed of course.” she chuckled and shook her head. “But I was following orders- I think he understood that. So, I took him aside and fixed him up before sending him on his way.” 

“Thank you, for that, Doctor Spencer,” Olivia waved dismissively. “Now, I have a few questions for you, the first of which is that, when he was admitted into your care, did you weigh Captain Rogers?” 

The redhead nodded, “Of course, it’s protocol.”

“Can you tell us how much he weighed?” 

“240 pounds without the suit; 250 with,” she replied, without missing a beat. 

“Thank you,” Pamela smiled. “You said that Captain Rogers was found on the bank of the Potomac by Mr. Wilson, unconscious, is that correct?” Olivia nodded. “Thank you. So, how is it possible that the Captain was on the river bank when he was unconscious? He couldn’t have swam.”

“I believe that someone would have brought him to the shore.”

“A person of average strength?” Pamela questioned, arching an eyebrow. 

“No, I don’t think that would have been possible, ma’a,.” Pamela motioned for her to continue “Captain Rogers is 250 pounds with his suit on, combine that with the strength of the water and the added dead weight, it would have been nearly impossible for a person of normal strength to pull him from the water.” 

“So, you’re saying that the person that pulled him from the water would have to be superhuman, or their strength would be, at least?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“Perhaps a man such as Sergeant Barnes who we know was there that day?” Pamela replied. 

“Yes, I think that Sergeant Barnes, as the only person with the strength needed to pull Captain Rogers to safety, was the man to save Steven that day.” 

Pamela stepped away and smiled, “Thank you. No further questions.” 

Richards stepped up to the dock, “Doctor Spencer, in your earlier statement, you mentioned that Mr. Rogers was beaten up, can you explain his injuries to us?” 

“I do believe it’s  _ Captain  _ Rogers, Mr. Richards, but I can,” she replied, throwing a false smile at the man. “Captain Rogers had been shot three times, once in the thigh, once in the side and once in the back. He’d been stabbed in the shoulder and his face had been heavily beaten. All injuries were non-lethal, the attacker didn’t want to kill, they just wanted to seriously hurt Captain Rogers.” 

“Could this have been done by someone that supposedly was good friends with him?” 

Olivia cocked her head, arching an eyebrow at him, “Are you asking me if James Barnes perportated the attack?” 

“I am.” 

“Then I would have to say no, Mr. Richards. With the information that I have, I believe that Sergeant Barnes did not attack Captain Rogers. The Winter Soldier did and they are very different people.” She replied, eyes shining with honesty and sympathy for Bucky. 

Richards let out a harsh breath and stepped away, retreating to his table, “No further questions.” 


	11. Chpt 10

“The defense would like to call Gabriel Jones to the stand.”

Gabriel Jones was a 101-year-old man who had aged significantly well, he held himself with the confidence of a former soldier and communicated an air of no-nonsense that made him seem twenty years younger. 

“For purposes of identification, please state your name, date of birth and occupation.” The Clerk ordered. 

“My name is Gabriel Jones, born August 14, 1918, and I am ex-military.” 

“Thank you,” the Clerk stepped forward. “Place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” Gabe nodded. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“Yes, ma’am, I do.” 

“Very well, you may begin questioning,” the Clerk stepped away and returned to her seat, allowing Pamela to approach the dock. 

“I’d like to first start off by saying how much of an honour it is to have you here with us today, Mr. Jones,” Pamela began. “I also wanted to express my greatest gratitude that you agreed to testify for us. But, all that aside, you were good friends with Sergeant Barnes during the war, correct?” 

“I was. All the Howlies were close, we were brothers,” Gabe replied, a far-off, fond look in his eyes. “There are endless stories that I could tell you about Sarge.” 

Pamela smiled warmly, “Would you mind telling us a few?”

Richards rose from his seat and Gabe glared at him, making the man shrink back a few centimetres, grinning triumphantly, “Objection, your honour, relevance?” 

“Denied- Miss Stockbrook is simply trying to develop Sergeant Barnes’ character,” Justice Anderson replied. “Continue, Miss Stockbrook.” 

Pamela nodded, “Please, Mr. Jones, you were saying, about these stories?” 

“Of course, I’d be more than willing to share some with you, where would you like me to start?” Gabe questioned. 

“Where you feel is best, Mr. Jones.” 

Gabe nodded, “I think the story of Steve the cat is a good one.” 

Bucky’s head snapped up, fondly smiling at Gabe, “I remember that little shit, used to eat Morita’s shoelaces.” 

“Used to play with his bandages too- that little bastard was more trouble than it was worth,” Gabe shook his head, chuckling gently. “We loved him though, a real cutie. Barnes found him about three days into our trek across  _ Neufchatel-en-Bray,  _ we came across this little brown kitten trying to fight a cow for water. He was a sickly little thing, skinny as a rake, and wheezing all the time. He kept swiping at this heffer’s legs, but she was just kicking him away. Everytime he got kicked down, he got straight back up and had another go. Barnes marched straight over there, picked the little thing up, and put him straight in his jacket. The cat just went limp, settled right against Bucky’s heart and went straight to sleep. Bucky called him Steve, said it reminded him of his fella back home who had the same name. Steve, the cat, not the human,” Gabe laughed, as did everyone else in the courtroom, and fondly shook his head. “He only liked Bucky, Bucky was the only one that he didn’t try to maul- though he would eat Bucky’s shoelaces. Then, Steve died- Morita thought that it was the cat version of pneumonia, but Bucky was inconsolable for weeks after. Then, we met the real Steve and understood. That sickly little cat dying reminded him of his Steve and how sickly he was- though, he weren’t so small and helpless when we met him, but we still understood. He was so worried about losing human-Steve that losing cat-Steve had broke him on a more personal level.” 

“It must have been hard to watch your friend fall apart like that,” Pamela whispered. 

“It was, but we knew that he was stronger than any of us put together. We knew he’d pull through. But, we didn’t have much time to think about it because shortly after, we got captured by HYDRA and sent to Azzano.” Gabe replied, shaking his head forcefully. 

“Do you think you’d be up to telling us about what you experienced there?” Pamela asked. 

Gabe nodded, “I can’t say that we experienced much other than starvation, Barnes took the brunt of the physical torture.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Well, the guards would come around at regular intervals and ask us to tell them what the Allies plans were. Bucky would always be the one to talk and he told them the same thing every time. He’d just look at ‘em, all sweet-eyed and innocent, and say-” 

Bucky cut Gabe off, “Suck my ass.” 

Gabe chuckled, “Yeah. They hated it. Hit Barnes every time he said it, but he never changed his answer. One day, they came back with a little man, muttering away in German to him, and took Barnes away. We didn’t see him again until human-Steve broke us out.” 

Pamela smiled widely, “Thank you so much for that, Mr. Jones, could you please tell us what happened after you were liberated by Captain Rogers?” 

“Well, not much really," Gabe replied. “We went back to camp, got fixed up and spent the next few days celebrating our freedom and alive-ness. Sarge spent most of it with human-Steve, he was plastered to his side like a limpet, everywhere Rogers went, he went. When we got shipped back out, Barnes demanded that he be Steve’s right-hand man, despite Steve’s insistence that he stay at the camp and get completely recovered. That man was loyal to a fault and protective as hell.” 

“Did James ever do anything to hurt Captain Rogers?” 

Gabe shook his head, “No, ‘course not. Barnes was too enamoured by the Captain to even think about hurting him. I think if he had’ve hurt him, it would’ve been ‘cause he weren’t in control of himself. Sarge would never hurt anyone, ever- he was too kind. He’d have sooner died than hurt the ones that he cared about.” 

“Thank you for that, Mr. Jones, no further questions,” Pamela stepped away, allowing space for Richards to step up. 

“Mr. Richards, would you like to question the witness?” Justice Anderson asked. 

“No, ma’am.” 

“Very well,” she turned to Gabe and smiled. “Thank you so much for coming here today and for your services to our country during the war. You can leave now, Mr. Jones.” 

“No need to thank me, ma’am, just doing my bit to help Sarge after he saved my ass so many times. It was my honour.” 

  
  
  
  


“The defense would like to call Sam Wilson to the stand.” 

Sam dropped himself into the seat, turning to look at Bucky as he did, and smiled in encouragement, turning his attention to the Clerk when she pointedly cleared her throat.

"For purposes of identification, please state your name, date of birth and occupation." 

Sam smiled softly, "Samuel Thomas Wilson, October 5, 1978. I'm a volunteer at the VA- I mean, the Veterans' Administration Centre in Manhattan." 

She produced a bible, "Left hand on the bible, right hand in the air," Sam complied, flashing her a toothy grin. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" 

"Yes, ma'am." Sam chuckled. 

"Very well, begin questioning the witness," the Clerk trotted back to her desk, leaving room for Pamela to approach. 

"Good morning, Mr. Wilson," Pamela greeted. 

"Morning, Pam," Sam replied, throwing her an easy smile. 

She chuckled and shook her head, "We'll just jump right in, can you describe the nature of your relationship to Sergeant Barnes?" 

Sam sat forward in his chair, fiddling with his tie, "I think we're friendly enough. We mostly put up with each other for Steve. He’s like the overprotective father that I never had.” 

Bucky, in the adjacent dock, snorted and shook his head, “And you’re like the juvenile delinquent son that I never wanted.” 

There was a chorus of chuckles throughout the courtroom at their antics and Sam rolled his eyes, but threw Bucky a found smile that the ex-assassin returned eagerly. 

“It’s clear that you have quite the love-hate relationship with Sergeant Barnes,” Pamela replied, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes.

“Yeah, sounds about right ” The winged superhero shook his head, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “I love him, he hates me.” 

Another rumble of laughter spread across the courtyard and Sam stuck his tongue out at Bucky, grinning when the assassin playfully glared at him. 

“How did this friendship come about?” Pamela questioned. 

Sam shrugged, “Our mutual agreement that Steve can’t look after himself,” Bucky made a noise of agreement, nodding gently, and Sam sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Whilst that isn’t far from the truth, I think that Barnes just likes to look after people. He acts like he’s this big, scary man that doesn’t like anyone, but he’s a softie, really. He cares so much and he’s so fiercely protective of those that he sees as his family. He’s like the Dad-Friend of the team.” 

Pamela giggled, “How did you come to know this about James?” 

Sam took a deep breath, letting it out in a quick rush, and sat straight-backed, leaning further into the mic, “I had a flashback on the street one day. A car backfired and I was just thrown straight back into the middle of the battlefield, gunfire all around. I just collapsed in the middle of the street, pressed against some random artisan coffee shop, and I tried to calm myself, but I just couldn’t. These guys came up to me and started making fun- they thought it was so amusing what happened. I phoned Barnes, Steve was outta the country at the time and I knew that I could trust Barnes because Steve did. These kids were still leering at me whilst I was on the phone and I think Barnes heard them. He told me that he’d be with me in five minutes. Then, he stayed on the phone with me, talking to me until he got to where I was- made sure that I wasn’t alone. He tore the kids to shreds, yelled at them, told them how disappointed he was that they would laugh at a war vet having a flashback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many grown men cry before, but they did when Barnes told them off. It was quite funny. But, then, Barnes just sat down with me, right in the gutter, dirtying up his best jeans and favourite leather jacket, and talked me down, then brought me coffee that cost something like $19 dollars and made me feel like a normal human again.” 

“That must have been really hard for you, Sam. Thank you for sharing that with us and for your service to our country,” Sam waved dismissively, smiling softly at Pamela. "No more questions, your honors." 

Pamela stepped away and Richards sidled up to the dock, smiling half-heartedly at Sam, recoiling when the man glared at him. 

"Mr. Wilson, you fought against the Winter Solider alongside Mr. Rogers, is that true?" 

Sam narrowed his eyes, " _ Captain  _ Rogers." 

Richards rolled his eyes, "Fine,  _ Captain  _ Rogers."

Sam felt a flare of anger in his chest, warming his inside, and took a deep breath in through his nose, speaking through gritted teeth, "But, yes, I did fight the Winter Soldier." 

"How would you say that The Winter Soldier fought?" 

Sam wanted to punch the self-satisfied smirk off his face, "Like a robot with a mission. He had sights set on Steve and only Steve. Anyone that got in his way was just collateral damage." 

"Very well." Richards replied, grinning to himself. 

"You should also know that I fought alongside Bucky Barnes. Both before The Blip and after. He's a formidable fighter and I'm lucky to have had him watching my six," Sam cast a glance over to Bucky, grinning at the smile that was settled on his lips. "Bucky had a very different fighting style to the Winter Soldier. He was calculated, restrained. He knew what he was doing, who needed to go and who didn't. He was protective, one eye on the bad guys, one eye on his team- not just his team either, he looked out for everyone. The Winter Soldier was a puppet, designed to carry out orders, Bucky Barnes had a mind of his own that told him to do what was right. So, before you ask me if that man on trial is a murderer, I'll tell you that no, he isn't. He's a protector. He's an avenger. He's my  _ friend _ ."

Richards went pale and staggered backwards, hanging his head in shame, "No further questions." 

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson." Justice Anderson whispered. 


	12. Chpt 11

"The defense would like to call Natasha Romanov to the stand." 

Natasha waltzed in, deep red hair pulled up into an artful bun, wearing a thigh-length black dress with a mesh bodice and a silky, black suit jacket, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor as she approached her dock, throwing a wink at Sam when she walked past and caught him eyeing her with a heated gaze. 

"For purposes of identification, please state your full name, date of birth and occupation." The Clerk ordered. 

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova- also known as Natasha Romanov. December 5, 1984. I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D agent," Natasha replied. 

"Left hand on the bible, right hand in the air," the redhead grinned as she tapped her nails against the cover of the holy book. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" 

Natasha nodded, "Yes." 

"Thank you," the Clerk walked away and motioned for Pamela to step forward. "You may begin questioning."

Pamela smiled at Natasha as she approached the dock, "Thank you, Miss Romanov, for being here today. I'm going to jump right in, when was the first time that you heard about the Winter Soldier?"

"I was 10. So, 1994. But, I met him in 1999 when I was 15," she answered simply. 

"What was the nature of your first experience?" 

Natasha drew in a heavy breath, her voice quivering as she spoke, throat tight with emotion, "He was a ghost story, the bogeyman, if you will, told to make us obedient.  _ Be good little spies or the man with the metal arm will come get you. _ But, then he was brought in as a teacher to tell us how to be good assassins."

"Thank you, Miss Romanov. This must be hard for you," Pamela whispered, her voice soft and caring. "We're going to be asking some heavy questions, do you need to take a moment to prepare yourself?"

The redhead hastily shook her head, "No, it's okay. I can handle it. Keep going." 

Pamela nodded sharply, "Very well. Can you tell us about your experiences at the Red Room?" 

She knew that the question had been coming, but it still hit her like a ton of bricks, the memories flooding back as if they'd never left. 

Natasha broke out of her thoughts when Richards rose to his feet, "Objection, your honor, relevance?"

"Miss Stockbrook is attempting to set up a timeline of events and build on Miss Romanov's character. Objection denied," Justice Anderson replied. "Please answer the question, Miss Romanov." 

She took a stabilising breath, digging her nails into her palms, the pain grounding her as she began to talk, "The Red Room was an underground organisation established in 1968 to create a league of the greatest female soldiers that Russia had ever seen. Girls, as young as 10, taken from their homes and enrolled into the Room, indoctrinated into their ideology." 

"What was that?" 

Natasha chuckled darkly, "Trust no one, only your sisters- but, even with them, be cautious. A mission is a mission, no matter how hard. Be a perfect soldier- don't hesitate. Never fail or you will suffer the consequences." 

"Consequences?" Pamela whispered. 

The redhead flinched, gritting her teeth, "Torture. Electroshock; Lashings; Beatings; Water Torture; Asphyxiation. That's just to name a few." 

"That's horrible, thank you so much for this, Miss Romanov. Are you okay to continue?" 

Natasha smiled weakly, her eyes finding Sam's in the gallery and she used the strength in his gaze to continue with her testimony, "I'm fine." 

Pamela hesitated, but nodded softly and continued, "You said that you first met the Winter Soldier in 1999? Can you tell us your first impression of him?" 

"He was scary," Natasha laughed and the sound was repeated, albeit uneasily, by the audience. "But, he was a good soldier- or what the Red Room classified as good. He was loyal, accurate and precise, listened to orders, didn't hesitate. He was a blank slate, robotic, designed to carry out one objective: kill quickly and efficiently. We were to lead by his example." 

"How would you explain the nature of your relationship with the Winter Soldier?" 

"He was a teacher, at first, but I worked closely with him once I was cleared for field work. We were a formidable team- the Soldier and his Widow." 

"At any point during your dealings with the Winter Soldier, did you ever believe that there was more to him than this emotional robot that you'd described?"

Natasha smiled and nodded, "Once. In 2004, a few days before my graduation ceremony,  _ Yasha  _ broke his conditioning." 

"Yasha?" Pamela repeated, brow furrowed in confusion. 

Natasha cringed, "Sorry, James. Yasha is Russian." 

"Right. Can you recount the day that James broke his conditioning?" 

"Of course. The Winter Soldier had taken a liking to me, said that I had potential. As we got closer, I started to wonder if he had an identity, like my sisters and I did, a name, so I snuck into the main office at the Room and stole his file. There was nothing. He was nothing. Just the Soldier, just the Asset. I hated that, I hated that he didn’t have a name, so I set about befriending him, trying to figure out who he was before he was the Soldier, but there was nothing there. No memories, no personality. Nothing. Just the Soldier. Just a killer,” she explained, giving a great shuddering breath as tears gathered in her eyes. 

"But, that changed one day. I'd confided in him about my fears and doubts regarding the graduation ceremony, not sure why. I think it's because I knew he wouldn't remember. Anyway," she shook her head, forcing herself back on track. "A few nights before the ceremony, James broke into my room. He crept over to my bedside and snapped the chain of my cuffs in half." 

"I'm sorry? Cuffs?" Pamela interjected. 

Natasha nodded, "We were restrained at night time, so we wouldn't run away," Pamela nodded, happy with the explanation, and motioned for the redhead to continue. "Anyway, he broke me out of my cuffs and led me through the building to the front doors. He told me that I needed to run, to get as far away from Russia and the Red Room as I could. He said that he was scared I'd turn out like him and that I had so much more potential to do good. I asked him to come with me, but he said he couldn't, that he would never escape because they would find him." 

A tear slipped down her cheek and she didn't bother wiping it away. "But we were attacked before I could escape, by both my sisters and HYDRA agents. James tried to fight as many of them as he could, just to give me time to escape, but he inevitably failed. He was restrained and I was knocked out. When I woke up, James was gone, I didn't hear anything about him for many years, and the Winter Soldier just became a ghost story again. I knew the truth though and I swore that I would find him and help him escape, even if it was the last thing I did." 

"Thank you, Miss Romanov," Pamela whispered, throwing her a gracious smile. 

Natasha nodded, staring determinedly at her lap, and refused to meet anyone's gaze, trying to remain as emotionless as possible. 

"No further question, your honor," Pamela stepped away and returned to her seat. 

"Mr. Richard's?" Justice Anderson prompted. 

Richards looked up with a blank look, his face pale and lips parted in shock, "N-No questions, your honor." 

"Very well," Justice Anderson turned to Natasha with a kind smile. "Thank you, Miss Romanov, you may leave." 

Natasha nodded and stood on shaky legs, avoiding looking at anyone as she briskly walked from the courtroom. 

Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket and he excused himself, walking into the corridor before pulling it out. 

_ Steve says to take me home. -NR _

_ Is he sure? His testimony is next.- SW _

_ He says that we've done enough for today. We both need rest and should go back to the tower.- NR  _

_ Of course, tell him I say thanks. I'll meet you out front.- SW  _

Sam tucked his phone back into his pocket and pushed out of the front door onto the street. Natasha was already there, leaning against the side of the building as she waited for him. 

Sam stepped up to her and she launched at him, burying her face in his neck, "I've got you," he soothed, rubbing her back. "Let's get home." 

Natasha nodded and tucked herself under his arm, leaning most of her weight against him. Sam smiled and tightened his grip around her shoulders, holding her close, but also keeping her stable. 

They'd be okay, in time. 


	13. Chpt 12

“The defense would like to call Steve Rogers to the stand.” 

The blond entered the courtroom, ignoring the excited chattering from the gallery, and dropped himself into the witness’ dock. He sought Bucky’s gaze from across the courtroom and felt a burst of warmth in his chest when Bucky smiled warmly at him. Shortly after he’d made himself comfortable, the Clerk turned to him with an expectant look. 

“For purposes of identification, please state your full name, date of birth and occupation.” 

Steve smiled warmly at her, “Steven Grant Rogers, born July 4, 1918 and I’m a veteran of the US army and a former Avenger.” 

“Thank you, Captain Rogers,” the Clerk replied and approached him with a bible clutched between her fingers. “Place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” Steve immediately complied. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

Steve caught Bucky’s gaze again, holding it as he spoke, the sincerity of his words bleeding through the soft look in his eyes, “For Bucky, of course.”

There was a soft coo throughout the courtroom and Steve ignored it, everything in the world boiling down to him and Bucky and their locked eyes. His heart sped up briefly and he let his hand fall from the cover of the holy book, settling limp in his lap as he continued to stare into Bucky’s steel-grey eyes, getting lost in the passion that was held within them. 

Steve arched a questioning eyebrow at him,  _ are you okay? _

Bucky returned the expression with a smirk,  _ are you?  _

“Captain Rogers?” Pamela questioned, drawing half of his attention and he distractedly acknowledged her, eyes still fixed on Bucky, almost asking for permission to turn away.

Bucky fondly rolled his eyes and nodded his head in reassurance before Steve allowed himself to give Pamela his, mostly, undivided attention. 

“G’morning!” Steve chirped, throwing her his best thousand-watt smile. 

Pamela chuckled and shook her head, “Morning, Steve, are you okay to get started?” Steve nodded and she smiled warmly. “Great, I’m going to begin by asking you when you first met James.” 

“That would be 1930, ma’am, I was twelve, Buck was thirteen. I was a scrawny, sickly lookin’ thing, barely 80 pounds soaking wet, and I had a real thing for gettin’ into fights with people three times my size.” Steve chuckled and the rest of the courtroom followed suit, including Bucky, and Steve would give the world to see it again, to see Bucky smile. 

He tore himself away from his thoughts and returned to his speech, “My ma hated that I used to come home every day from school with a shiner or busted knuckles. But, this one day, I was getting wailed on by a bunch of kids a few grades above me, they were pickin’ on a girl- pullin’ her hair and stuff. But, my ma she raised me right and she raised me to know that you don’t lay hands on a dame.” 

Steve got lost in his thoughts for a moment, memories of his mother resurfacing and he felt a pang in his chest that he hadn’t felt since she passed away. He cleared his throat, pulling himself back to reality, and scratched the back of his head with an awkward chuckle. 

“So, I did what anyone woulda done,” he continued. “I told ‘em to pick on someone their own size and, naturally, I got beaten down for it. But, Buck, he was, my knight in shining armour. Swooped in and punched those bullies right on the nose for their troubles. We were best friends from then onwards, attached at the hips- where Bucky went, I went and vise versa.” 

“Your mother must’ve been very proud of you, I’m sure,” Pamela questioned, a look akin to affection settling in her eyes. 

“She was, sometimes. She always told me that there had to be people that were willing to stick up for the little guys, but I should be careful because I was one of the little guys too,” he chuckled and softly shook his head. “I guess that’s why I kept Bucky so close all those years, he was my lookout. My backup. Both on and off the battlefield. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for Buck looking after me.”

Bucky, from his dock, snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like  _ damn, right, Rogers _ , and it seemed like Steve was the only one that had heard it, but he grinned anyway because it was such a Bucky thing to say. 

“Were you and James close?” Pamela questioned and there was a brief noise of surprise from Bucky’s dock and he got a far-off look in his eyes, jaw clenched like it did when he was remembering. 

“Sergeant Barnes?” Justice Anderson interjected when Bucky fell silent for a moment too long, staring, fixated, at the floor beneath him. 

“Leave him,” Steve hissed. “He’s remembering.” 

The courtroom fell silent as they watched Bucky tremble, tears filling his eyes and breathing becoming laboured. His hands clenched into fists and he made another soft noise of surprise, though it sounded regretful- as if he felt that it was something that he never should’ve forgotten. 

“Buck?” Steve questioned, heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Bucky to come back to them. To him. 

“ _ Steve _ ,” he whimpered, resurfacing from whatever memory had been triggered. 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, “You okay, pal?” 

Bucky nodded his head, still looking a little sluggish and heavy, but it would pass. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Sergeant Barnes?” Justice Anderson questioned and Bucky’s head snapped up towards her. “Do you need a moment?” 

Bucky grit his teeth and shook his head. “No, I’ll be okay. You can keep going.” 

“You sure, Buck?” Steve whispered, brow furrowed in concern, and chuckled when Buccky growled at him. 

“Stop mothering me, Rogers, and get on with your damn speech, you punk,” he hissed and Steve grinned again. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Steve teased, grinning wider when Bucky muttered something that sounded suspiciously like  _ little shit _ . Steve wouldn’t put it past him if he did. 

“Sorry, Pamela, can you repeat your question?” The blond questioned, turning back to Pamela with a soft smile. 

“I asked if you and James were close,” she reminded. 

“Well, of course we were,” he replied, a fond smile taking over his grin and he cast a quick look, making sure to filter his words through fear of not knowing what Bucky remembered. “Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky. He took me in when my ma died, he looked after me when I got sick. Took on two jobs to make sure we had a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Even when we went to war, he followed me blindly into the jaws of death and I did the same. We were the  _ team _ , we were  _ SteveandBucky _ , both before the war and during it. Even now. Even while he’s still recovering and only got half of his memories.” 

“How much does James remember?” 

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment, casting a glance from the corner of his eye at Bucky, “Enough to know who he was- who he  _ is _ . Enough to know that he’s not the Winter Soldier, that he’s not HYDRA’s puppet and that he’s his own person, with autonomy.” 

“How has James’ recovery process been?” Pamela asked. 

For the first time since Steve’s testimony began, Richards spoke up, “Objection, your honor, relevance?” 

“Denied,” Justice Anderson replied, without blinking. “Miss Stockbrook is attempting to create detailed evidence of Sergeant Barnes’ humanity, proving that he, like many, has a lot to recover from. She is trying to expose his vulnerability as a way of allowing people to relate to him and his situation.” She paused for a moment, turning to Steve with a reassuring smile, motioning for Steve to continue. “Please answer the question, Captain.” 

“Of course, ma’am,” Steve replied. “Bucky’s been doing really well, ever since our friends managed to remove his triggers, his mental state has improved. Though, he has his nights where he wakes up screaming from his nightmares. Those are the nights when I have to hold him down so he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“Are you not worried about James hurting other people?” 

Steve hastily shook his head, “My Bucky would never hurt anyone. He’d sooner hurt himself. But, Bucky, when he’s in a state like that, he’s more likely to hurt himself. He’s a higher risk to himself than to anyone else.” 

“Have you ever been scared of James?” 

Steve frowned, “Never. Not once, in my life, have I ever been scared of Bucky. He’s never given me any reason to be. He’s so kind and caring, he looked after me when I was weak. He protected me when I couldn’t protect myself and he continued to do it even when I could. Bucky was-  _ is  _ the kind of person that will sooner take a bullet for you than put one in you- especially if you’re close to him. Bucky would never hurt me, so why should I be afraid of him?” 

“That’s a wonderful point, Steve,” Pamela whispered, “I’m afraid that’s all I wanted to ask, thank you for being so cooperative.” 

“Always, Pamela, thank you for being so patient.” 

She stepped away from the dock, moving towards her table near Bucky, “No further questions, your honor.” 

Justice Anderson nodded in thanks and turned to Richards, who was already rising out of his seat, “Mr. Richards?” 

  
  


He approached Steve’s dock, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt and blazer as he came to a stop in front of him, “I have one question for you, Mr-” 

Steve cut him off with a false smile, “That’s  _ Captain  _ Rogers to you, son.” 

“Fine,” Richards snarled. “ _ Captain  _ Rogers, how would you describe your relationship with the Winter Soldier?” 

Steve bit back a growl, clenching his jaw and wrapping his fists in the fabric of his suit jacket, “The Winter Soldier was an enemy, a weapon of HYDRA designed to destroy any opposition and threats to their regime. I made it my mission to get rid of the Winter Soldier and I did.” 

“If you got rid of the Winter Soldier, as you claim, how is the defendant still here, alive and breathing?” Richards questioned, looking thoroughly smug with himself. 

“There is more than one way to destroy an enemy, Mr. Richards,” Steve replied. “Yes, Bucky is still alive, but the Winter Soldier is very much dead.” 

“Is he not the Winter Soldier then? Doesn’t the fact that he is still alive mean that the Winter Soldier is still alive?” 

Steve did growl that time, fingers curling tighter around his suit jacket until he heard an ominous rip, “If you think that, then you’re dumber than you look,” he snarled. “The Winter Soldier was like a computer programme, installed in Bucky’s brain with certain commands that would activate that programme. We deleted the commands and, therefore, the programme. Bucky Barnes is not the Winter Soldier, and he never was.” 

“I don’t understand,” Richards replied and Steve rolled his eyes. 

“How can the Winter Soldier be Bucky Barnes when Bucky Barnes didn’t exist?” Steve challenged, smirking when Richards gave him a blank look. “What makes you a person, Mr. Richards?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“What makes you  _ you _ ? How do you identify as a person? How do people know who you are?” The blond arched an eyebrow at him, leaning forward in his seat and resting his arms on the top of the dock. 

Richards looked thoughtful for a moment before he began to speak, “Well, people know me because they know my name. They know about my work.” 

“Exactly. You have a name, you are a tangible person. Like me, I’m Steve Rogers, an artist and a dog person. That’s what makes me who I am. That’s everything that makes me Steve Rogers. Now, everything that made Bucky who he was was taken away. His name, his personality, his freedom. Does that, therefore, not take away his individuality and humanity? To have a name taken from you is to have your identity taken and you are therefore no longer a person. So, when Bucky’s name was taken from him after his capture by HYDRA, was Bucky, in theory, no longer in existence? Was he, technically, no longer a person?” 

“Well, I-” Richards was at a loss for words, surprise settling in his eyes when he realised that Steve had essentially shut down his entire argument in a few minutes of talking. 

“I think, Mr. Richards, that you might find that the man here today, on trial, my Bucky, James, Sergeant Barnes, whatever you want to call him, is not the Winter Soldier. You will find that they are very different people and I hope that is exposed and that you come to realise the truth that everybody else already knows.” 

“I-” Richards staggered back a few steps, shoulders slumped in defeat. “No further questions your honor.” 

There was a surprised chattering that spread about the courtroom regarding the prosecution’s willingness to admit defeat, and everyone, it seemed, was asking the same question. 

Was James Buchanan Barnes an innocent man? 

The Clerk rose from her chair and addressed the room, “We have heard from all the witnesses at the Defense, we shall call a recess and pick up tomorrow at 11:00. The time is 16:34, court adjourned. All rise from the justices.” 

As the shuffling of feet resounded through the emptying courtroom, Steve stayed firmly in his seat, watching as they led Bucky away again, through a back door and, mostly likely, into an armoured transport vehicle that would take him back to the Raft. 

Steve needed to see him. Needed to talk to him away from the courtroom and the press and he needed to do it as soon as he was able. 

  
  
  
  


The clang of hit boots against the metal flooring was loud, almost as loud as his heart, but it drowned out all other noises, including his thoughts. He wondered, briefly, if it was a good idea to come, but he needed to see Bucky, his promise be damned. 

“Stevie, I swear, one of these days, I’ll get you to listen to me,” Bucky growled as he rolled off his bed and came to stand in front of Steve with a piece of reinforced glass as the only thing separating them. 

“No,” Steve breathed. “You won’t.” 

“No,” Bucky parrotted. “I won’t.” 

Steve sighed heavily and dropped his forehead forward onto the glass, his eyes slipping shut as he lifted a hand to press his palm into the glass beside his head. Bucky sighed and copied the action. 

“Buck.” Steve mumbled, tears burning in his eyes and emotions making his throat close up. “ _ Bucky _ .” 

“Hush now, babydoll,” Bucky soothed. “I’m here.” 

Steve’s eyes snapped open and he stared at Bucky in shock, “You haven’t called me that since the 40s, do you-?” The blond cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence in fear of getting the wrong answer. 

Bucky’s eyes drifted open as well, grey irises darkened as he stared at Steve, “I remember.” 

“ _ Bucky _ ,” Steve choked out, tears openly falling down his cheeks as he gave a wet-sounding chuckle, glee spreading through his veins like wildfire and making his fingertips tingle. 

“I know, honey, I know,” Bucky replied, voice sounding tight, and Steve knew that he was trying to keep himself together. 

“Buck, you- I-” 

“Save it until after the trial, okay, doll?” Bucky whispered. “We got a lot to catch up on and talk about, right?” 

Steve nodded, feeling too weak and tired to argue, “Yeah, okay. For you, Buck, for you.” 

“I know, honey,” he gave a heavy sigh and pulled his forehead away from the glass, giving Steve his best unimpressed look, despite the tears brimming in his eyes. “You go home, okay? You get a warm shower and some sleep. Order a take out and watch cheesy films. Look after yourself until I can get out, okay?” 

Steve nodded again, feeling significantly lighter at Bucky’s newfound confidence in his possible-freedom, even if it was put on for his own benefit. 

“Good, now get going, punk,” Bucky teased. “Try not to do anything stupid until I get back?” 

Steve grinned, “Jerk,” he hissed. “And, how can I? You’ve got all the stupid with you.” 

The blond sighed heavily and reluctantly pulled away from the glass, taking a good few steps away from Bucky’s cell to stop himself from wanting to stay. Bucky nodded in reassurance, throwing him a warm smile, and Steve sucked in a deep breath, drawing himself to his full height, and turned on his heel, walking away from Bucky with his fists clenched at his sides. 

Bucky hated watching him leave. Hated to see his retreating form. Hated watching him disappear from sight. Hated the bone-deep loneliness that settled inside him without Steve’s all-encompassing presence. Hated not having Steve. Not being able to touch him;  _ hug  _ him. 

It would be over soon. All of it would be over and they could be back together again- after 70 years of being separated. 

They had a lot to catch up on. 


	14. Chpt 13

Day three of the trial came with even more apprehension and excitement than day two. Today was the day that they would receive the verdict and Bucky’s innocence would be proven. 

Steve was sitting in the gallery, looking out at the courtroom, and sought comfort in Natasha and Tony, who were sat either side of him. Their presence, whilst hardly noticeable, was calming and supportive. They were unwavering, within reach if he needed them, and he found the strength that he needed in their tranquility. 

Before Steve had the chance to get too lost in his thoughts, Bucky was led into the room and settled into his seat behind his dock, staring out at the crowd with a searching gaze. Steve straightened up, drawing himself to his full height and making himself as noticeable as he could, without physically calling out to the brunet. 

Bucky’s eyes flashed with recognition as they landed on Steve and a bright grin settled on his face, though more muted than it should have been, but still blinding in its intensity. Steve felt a million times better for having seen it and relaxed back into his seat, slumping slightly with relief. 

Steve tore away from his thoughts when the Clerk rose to her feet, “All rise for the Justices.”

The nine Justices wandered into the room and they rose to their feet, standing until Justice Anderson gave them permission to be seated. 

“Thank you. There will be detailed accounts of torture and incarceration in today’s trial, so if we have any in attendance who are squeamish or feel that they cannot sit through this trial for reasons regarding their own mental health, I ask that you leave now,” she paused for a brief moment, allowing time for anyone to leave that needed to. No one moved, so she settled into her seat and turned to the Clerk. “Shall we begin?” 

“I hereby call to start the Trial of the People of the United States vs. The Winter Soldier; the date is October 21, 2024, it is day three of the trial, and the time is 11:00. You may begin.” 

Pamela rose from her seat, moving towards the centre of the room to address both the gallery and the Justices, “Yesterday, we were able to have the honor of speaking with some of James’ closest friends to get a detailed account of the kind of man that he is, both on and off the battlefield. We were able to discover that James is a kind and compassionate man; that he is protective of those that he holds dear; and that he, like many of the Avengers that he associates with, fights for what is right and for those who need it. Today I hope not only to prove that James Barnes is a  _ good  _ man, but that he is an  _ innocent  _ man as well. Thank you.” 

Pamela turned to Bucky with a warm, reassuring smile and nodded when Bucky smiled at her, more of a grimace, but it was enough. 

“Today, finally, the defense calls our client, James Barnes, to the stand,” Pamela announced and excited chatter scurried throughout the courtroom. Steve felt nothing but dread, breathing a sigh of relief when Natasha settled a hand on his thigh and squeezed it briefly, leaving it there as an anchor. Steve had never felt more grateful for the redhead than he did in that moment. 

The Clerk turned to Bucky and Steve held his breath, hand coming to rest over Natasha’s. “For purposes of identification, state your full name, date of birth and occupation.” 

Bucky drew in a deep breath, “James Buchanan Barnes, March 10, 1917 and I’m a veteran of the US army.” 

“Thank you, Sergeant Barnes,” the Clerk replied, wandering over with her bible. “Place your left hand on the bible and your right hand in the air,” Bucky complied. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” 

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Bucky replied. 

“Brilliant,” the Clerk muttered and stepped away, casting a look at Pamela as she returned to her seat. “You may begin questioning the defendant.” 

“Thank you,” Pamela approached Bucky with a warm smile. “Good morning, James.” 

“Mornin’, Pam,” he grinned, toothy and wide, but Steve could see the falsity in it- the fear and insecurity written across his face making his heart pang painfully. 

“I’m going to get right into it, is that okay?” She questioned, waiting for Bucky’s confirming nod before continuing. “Can we talk about your memories for a second?” 

Bucky swallowed roughly and nodded, half-smiling at her, “Yeah, ‘course.” 

“What was the first memory that came back to you in 2014? What was it that made you decide to rebel against HYDRA?” 

Bucky looked thoughtful for a moment before he grinned, a look of fond affection settling on his face, and chuckled softly, “Coney Island, 1933. It was one of the best days of my life.”

Pamela smiled affectionately, “What made it so good?” 

The brunet laughed again, a deep, rumbling noise, and Steve took a mental picture, heart swelling at the utterly gleeful look in his eyes. “I made Steve ride the cyclone and he threw up. He hated me so much afterwards, but it was worth it to see him smiling. He always had such a pretty smile.” 

Steve blushed and smiled at Bucky from where he sat in the gallery, rolling his eyes at Bucky’s goofy grin. They pulled away from each other when Pamela spoke again, a soft smile on her face as she listened to Bucky talk about his life as a teenager. 

“Would you say that that is your fondest memory, James?” She asked. 

Bucky shook his head, “No, it’s not. But, I don’t know if I can share my fondest memory, Pam. It concerns another person and I don’t know if they’re okay with me sharing it.” Steve caught Bucky’s gaze and narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to the side. “1935 behind Mrs. Mollison’s bakery.” 

Steve thought for a moment, then it hit him. Their first kiss. Bucky had been boasting about his latest incursion with Daisy Webbs and how she’d let him feel her breasts underneath her shirt and how she’d touched his dick through his trousers. Steve had had enough of hearing it and pushed Bucky into the alleyway behind the bakery. He’d shoved him into the wall and planted a kiss on him right there, in broad daylight, where anyone could see. But, he didn’t care because Bucky had kissed back with twice as much vigor and desperation. 

Steve resurfaced from the memory with a grin and nodded at Bucky, “Tell them, it’s okay.” 

Bucky nodded and proceeded to relay the story of his and Steve’s first kiss to the entire courtroom- and the entire world, judging by the amount of press- but Steve couldn’t find it within himself to care. Bucky  _ remembered  _ and that, in itself, was a Godsend. 

There were scandalised whispers, but they were quickly silenced when Justice Anderson gave the members of the gallery a sharp glare. He had never liked the woman more than he did in that moment. 

“Pepper’s going to have a field day with PR now that this little secret of yours is out,” Tony whispered as he leant over to Steve. 

The blond rolled his eyes at the engineer’s antics, “Most people already knew that Buck and I were a thing- well, most people in the 40s, at least. We kept it a secret, yeah, but not from the Howlies or Pegs.” 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tony hissed, an edge of sadness to his voice, but it was quickly disguised by his usual joking tone. “The history books really did get it wrong, huh?” 

Steve snorted and nodded, “Of course they did.” 

Their conversation fell short when Pamela spoke up again, a teasing edge to her voice, “That’s adorable, James. It seemed you and Captain Rogers were closer than the history books led us to believe.” 

Bucky grinned, eyes locking with Steve’s as he smirked at the blond, “Yeah, we were.” Steve squirmed under his gaze, feeling his face heat up. 

“Thank you for sharing that with us, James,” Pamela replied. “I can only imagine how tough that must’ve been for you, especially since you had little time to prepare for it. So, thank you for your willingness to share those memories.” 

“Thank you for listening,” he whispered, his eyes going a little misty, but he hastily blinked it away. 

“We’re going to dig into the heavier topics now, will you need a few minutes?” Bucky shook his head, setting his jaw as Pamela smiled. “You were captured by HYDRA in the late 40s, is that right? 1945?” 

“There abouts, yeah,” Bucky confirmed. 

“Do you remember much about your fall from the train?” 

Bucky drew in a shuddering breath, blinking a few times to clear the tears from his eyes, and made a ‘half-and-half’ motion with his hand. “Bits and pieces. I remember Steve. I remember his scream. I remember him crying. I remember him calling out to me as I feel. I remember the fear that I felt. I remember how cold the snow was when I fell onto it. I remember the pain in my arm. It was excruciating. I thought I was going to die there. There was so much blood and I’d already severed my forearm, so it was only a matter of time before I either died from that or hypothermia. But, then HYDRA found me and took me back to the bunker.” 

By the end of his speech, Bucky’s breathing was laboured and his heart was racing a little too fast, so he sought out Steve’s gaze, seeking comfort and strength in the depths of blue, despite the tears that were held within them. 

“Does your arm still cause you pain?” Pamela asked and smiled at Bucky’s confused expression. “Do you get phantom pains at all? Or does it get sore?” 

“I mean, HYDRA’s arm severed most of my nerve endings, so I don’t get a lot of feeling in my stump. But, sometimes, I wake up in the night, screaming and begging to get the arm off, even though its not there anymore. Sometimes, if I’m not wearing my prosthetic, I’ll go to reach for something with my left hand and realise its not there. I haven’t had an arm there for 80 years, but it floors me every time.” 

“I can only imagine the pain that you must go through everyday without your arm. Thank you so much for sharing this with us, James, it must be hard,” she soothed. 

“It’s not easy, but I can do it,” Bucky replied. 

“Okay, will you share your memories of HYDRA? Do you remember anything about your incarceration?” Pamela questioned softly, knowing that it was a sensitive subject and trying to broach it as cautiously as possible; Bucky adored her for it. 

He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and nodded, drawing on all positive memories to outweigh the negatives that he would shortly discuss. 

“I can only remember fragments. Just a few memories here and there. I can’t remember everything just yet, but I’ll tell you what I do know.” Pamela nodded in thanks, making an encouraging gesture before Bucky continued. “HYDRA used to torture me, tried to get me to break, so that I was easier to control and to manipulate. If I was broken, I was easier to experiment on. I was less likely to fight back.” Bucky shuddered, his heart rate picking up, but he found Steve again, listing the things that he loved about the blond and, when that wasn’t enough, he, surprisingly, turned to Tony and did the same. The both of them smiled at him and he felt stronger, somehow. Like he’d been given an extra dose of courage and, with a deep breath, he continued. 

“When I first got there, Zola gave me a new arm, called me the new fist of HYDRA. When I tried to escape, they drugged me and put in Cryo. From that point onwards, unless I was needed, I was frozen. I spent the best part of twenty years doing that until they decided on the best way to make me a better soldier. It wasn’t long before they found it- a way to turn my brain to mush and make me forget  _ everything _ . To make me compliant and robotic, their perfect slave- the Winter Soldier. I could finally do their bidding and I’d do it without protesting.”

“You’re talking about the electric chair?” Pamela questioned. 

“Yeah, they used it for memory wipes, to make sure that I was a completely blank slate with no memories of who I was or what I’d done,” Bucky explained. 

“But, you remembered things sometimes?” 

Bucky nodded, “Towards the beginning, yeah. It took awhile for them to perfect the technique, to make me completely compliant and ready to do their bidding. So, there were moments when I’d need three or four brain wipes to fully go under.” 

“You were afraid of the chair, weren’t you?” 

“Objection your honor, speculation!” Richards yelped and Tony and Steve snarled at him. 

“Fucking look at him, you asshole, he’s obviously distressed by the mention of it. It’s not speculation, it’s called using your fucking eyes,” Tony hissed, low enough that only Steve, Natasha and Sam could hear him. 

“I have evidence, your honor, EXHIBIT 29- a video recording dated January 9, 1954. If I could submit it, you can see what I mean and that my question is not simply speculation, but born from true evidence,” Pamela argued. 

“Of course, go ahead,” Justice Anderson replied, making a motion for Pamela to walk over to the TV set in the corner of the room. 

Pamela retrieved a disk from her table, pulling it from its case before placing it into the DVD player and pressing play.

_ The camera was focused on a large, ominous black chair with a multitude of wires leading off it into various machines, once of which was an electricity generator.  _

_ Off-camera there was a blood-curdling scream and the sounds of struggling, followed by more screams.  _

_ Bucky’s voice came through the speakers, broken and raspy like he’d been crying for hours on end and had wrecked his voice.  _

_ “Please!” He cried, fear evident in his voice, as he was led onto screen by three struggling HYDRA agents and strapped into the chair. “Please, I don’t want to forget him! Not again!” No, please!” _

_ “Not to self: the Asset continues to be fearful of the chair. He now associates it with the act of forgetfulness. Possible exploitation for later behavioural corrections,” Zola’s plump frame shuffled into view and he stood in front of the chair, staring at Bucky with blatant interest in his eyes.  _

_ “Please,” Bucky begged. “Please don’t make me forget him. Please let me keep him. Please. He’s all that I have.”  _

_ “No, Soldier,” Zola argued. “ _ **_We_ ** _ are all you have. Begin process.”  _

_ “No!” Bucky fought against the restraints. “No! I don’t want to forget! NO! STEVIE! STEVIE! BABYDOLL, PLEASE! STEVIE, NO!”  _

_ One of the agents off to the side shoved a black mouth guard in between Bucky’s teeth, effectively silencing him, but the sound of Steve’s name could still be heard, even with the guard firmly in place.  _

_ Zola paced in front of the chair, holding the red book between his fingers, and rattling off the trigger words for the soldier. Bucky screamed in pain, clenching his fists and squirming relentlessly against his restraints.  _

_ Suddenly, as the last trigger word left Zola’s lips, Bucky fell immediately limp, a life and fight draining from him, leaving a blank shell, ready to be manipulated and shapen into what it was needed to be.  _

_ “Soldier?” Zola questioned, his self-satisfied smile evident in his voice.  _

_ “Ready to comply,” came the blank, emotionless reply, the voice with which it was spoken sounding nothing like the voice of James Barnes.  _

The recording stopped, the screen going black, and the entire room was dead silent, not a single breath to be heard. The only noise was coming from Bucky as he tried and failed to restrain his sobs, the wet-sounding noises tearing through his throat and echoing throughout the courtroom. 

Steve could barely hold back his own tears, throat and eyes stinging with the effort, and he gave a great, shuddering breath, trying to draw air into his lungs, but failing. It was the closest that he had come to an asthma attack since getting the serum and it scared him. 

“James?” Pamela whispered, a concerned frown etched onto her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” 

“I just-” Bucky hiccuped, cutting himself off, and squeezed his eyes shut, tears pouring down his cheeks. “Give me a second and we can continue.” 

“We don’t have to, we can take a break. You’re clearly very distressed and it sounds like you aren’t the only one,” she cast a look over her shoulder at Steve and Bucky stared at him through tear-filled eyes. 

“No, I need to do this, I have to do this,” Bucky drew in a deep, calming breath and pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes, forcing the tears to stop. It took a few moments, but whilst the tears were still falling at irregular intervals, he was calmer. 

“I’m okay.” 

Pamela looked unsure, but she nodded anyway and continued, “Can you tell us what the brain wipes were like?”

Bucky nodded, wiping at his tears, and drew in another shaky breath, "The worst part about the brain wipes wasn't forgetting. It was forgetting that you'd even forgotten in the first place. It was not knowing that you'd even known. It was looking at the man that you've loved for nearly a century and forgetting that you'd ever known him, that you'd ever loved him." 

Steve gasped, more tears falling down his cheeks, faster than before and he gripped Natasha’s hand harder, hoping that he wasn’t hurting her, but he needed the comfort. Tony seemed to get the memo as well, reaching across to grasp at Steve’s wrist, rubbing his thumb along the inside of Steve’s wrist, disappearing occasionally under the sleeve of his shirt. 

No one else moved an inch or uttered a single word, hanging off every sentence that tumbled from Bucky's lips, too scared to miss any vital information.

Bucky found Steve’s gaze across the room, seeing the tears pouring down his cheeks, and felt his heart clench painfully, but there was strength and support and love in his eyes that made Bucky feel ten times more confident in his ability to continue with his testimony. 

The brunet took a deep breath, brushing his hair from his eyes, and began to talk, his voice steady despite the tears pouring down his cheeks, "The thing with HYDRA wasn't that they made you forget other people, they made you forget yourself as well- everything that made you  **you** was taken from you. Your name. Your humanity. Your free will. Your voice. All of it, gone at the flick of a switch. They wiped you clean and rebuilt you from scratch. Moulded you into the perfect weapon, obedient and subservient. Ready to…" Bucky froze, taking in a sharp breath, "Poised to strike at the right words. When I was with HYDRA, I wasn’t human, I wasn’t Bucky Barnes, but now, with the help if some people that really love me, I’m me again. I’m Bucky Barnes for the first time since 1945 and it feels great."

“Thank you, James, that was touching and very brave,” Pamela whispered. “It must’ve taken great strength to continue with that testimony, even without the obvious turmoil that you were facing. Thank you so much for continuing and allowing us to get a greater understanding of your experiences with HYDRA.” 

Before Bucky could reply, “I am calling a recess to give Sergeant Barnes and our audience time to recover and recuperate and to prepare themselves for the prosecution questioning. We are covering a deep topic today in this trial and I asked that everyone takes proper care and looks after themselves. Thank you, you are dismissed. We will return at 12:30.” 

The Clerk relayed the information a second time and Bucky was led from the room. Steve watched him go, heart clenching in his chest, making him feel like it had been ripped from his ribcage and stomped on. Seeing Bucky in so much pain and not being able to comfort him, broke him in ways that he couldn’t comprehend. 

“Steve?” Natasha questioned, a warm hand settling against his thigh, tapping softly to bring him back to the present. 

“I can’t-” Steve breathed,tears pouring down his cheeks and voice shaking as he struggled to hold back his sobs. “I need to-” 

Tony seized him by the arm, pulling him out of his seat and towards the door; one hand on his wrist and another on the small of his back, guiding him through the courthouse to the restrooms. He shoved him inside, closing the door behind him with a rough shove, feeling relieved when he saw Sam and Natasha stand guard outside of the door, turning away anyone that came near. 

Tony drew his focus away from the couple and back to the supersoldier that was hunched over the sink, struggling to draw in a breath. He approached Steve with his hands outstretched in a peaceful motion, palms coming to rest on Steve’s shoulders. Tony’s heart broke when the blond whimpered at the touch, leaning into it, and stepped closer, hands coming to grip at Steve’s shoulders, gently coaxing the blond into turning around. 

Steve went willingly and it seemed that, as soon as he turned, a switch flipped in his head, opening the floodgates, “Tony,” he breathed and promptly threw himself at the engineer. 

Tony caught him, staggering back a few steps, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, even with the height difference. It seemed that Steve was trying to make himself smaller and that, in itself, was enough to utterly shatter Tony’s heart. 

“I’m here,” he soothed, slowly lowering them to the floor and cradling Steve in his lap. “You can let go. I’ve got you now. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’ll protect you. You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine. I’m here.” 

“Tony,” he cried, scrambling for purchase on the lapels of Tony’s suit jacket. “They-  _ fuck _ .” 

“I know, Capsicle, I know,” Tony whispered, understanding what Steve was getting at. “But, he’s safe now, you made sure of that. You protected him and he’s okay now. He’s safe and he’s loved. He’s happy and free. He’s on the mend. He’s okay. We all are. It’s all okay now. You made sure of that, you did so good, Steve.” 

“I should’ve known. I should’ve known that he wasn’t dead. I should’ve looked for him,” Steve sobbed, tears rolling down his cheeks and soaking into the fabric of Tony’ shirt where he had buried his head. 

“No one knew, Steve. Not SHIELD, not my dad, not Peggy, not Nick. None of them. You can’t blame yourself, Steve. You have done so much to help Buckaroo, you’ve given so much to protect him and help him. You’ve done everything that you can. You’re amazing, Steve. You’re enough. You’ve done enough. Bucky knows that. I know that.  _ Everyone _ knows that. Steve, he’s safe now. You have to remind yourself of that.  _ You  _ saved him.  _ You got him away from those bastards. You  _ got him the help he needed.  _ You  _ didn’t give up on him, despite everyone telling you that should. Steve, you’ve done so much, you have to see that.” 

“But, I wasn’t there for him when he needed me!” Steve protested, tears falling faster and harder. 

“You were a bit busy being a Capsicle in the Arctic, Steven,” Tony retorted, smiling when Steve let out a wet-sounding chuckle, and let out a heavy sigh, dropping a kiss into Steve’s curls. “You’re here for him now. It still counts, Steve. He still needs you. If anything, he needs you more  _ now  _ than he ever did during his capture by HYDRA. Steve, stop doing this to yourself. You’ve done more than enough. You’re there for him every day, despite everything. You’ve given and done so much for him. You’re enough, Steve. You were always enough.” 

Steve curled further into Tony, nuzzling into his embrace, and the engineer fell silent, letting him take the comfort that he needed. The blond let out a deep, shuddering breath and lifted his head, staring at Tony with red and puffy eyes. 

“Tony,” he breathed, looking relieved to see the engineer. 

“I’m here,” Tony replied, smiling warmly at the supersoldier, getting lost in the depths of blue held within his irises as they made eye contact. 

“I-” Steve cut himself off when his voice cracked and he chuckled when Tony grinned in amusement. “Sorry for snotting on your shirt.” 

Tony waved him off dismissively, “I have other shirts. What matters is that you’re okay.” 

“I am now,” Steve replied, though his voice was still a little shaky. 

Before Tony could answer, Sam stuck his head through the door with a soft smile, “Hey, they’re calling us back in, do you wanna get cleaned up?” 

Steve sighed and nodded, pulling himself and Tony to their feet before he wandered over to the sink to splash some cold water on his face. Tony grinned at him in the mirror and skipped over to the hand dryer, promptly sticking his chest under the jet of warm air to dry out his tear-soaked shirt. Steve snorted at him and fondly rolled his eyes, dabbing at his face with a paper towel. Tony threw him another grin and pulled away from the hand dryer, shirt now dry as if Steve hadn’t been crying over it a few seconds prior. 

“You ready?” Tony whispered, throwing Steve a cautious look. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Steve replied and, before he could leave the restroom, Tony stopped him with a hand on his wrist. 

Steve turned to him with an expectant look and Tony flushed before offering his hand to the blond with a shy smile. He smiled in thanks and reached for Tony’s hand, interlacing their fingers as he pulled the door open, greeting Natasha and Sam with a broken half-smile. 

Natasha smirked knowingly and turned to Sam, giving him a look that said: I told you so. Steve ignored it in favour of wandering towards the courtroom, freezing when he reached the door. Tony noticed his hesitance and squeezed Steve’s hand in reassurance, smiling softly when Steve squeezed back. With their hands linked and Steve squeezing a little too hard, they walked back into the room, settling into their previous seats.


	15. Chpt 14

Bucky was already back in his dock by the time that the rest of the courtroom had returned and Steve immediately sought his gaze, silently asking if he was okay, frowning when the brunet shook his head. 

_ You’ll get out of here,  _ Steve mouthed, smiling warmly when Bucky nodded, sighing heavily. 

“Quiet in the courtroom, please!” The Clerk yelled, nodding in thanks when the room fell silent. “All rise for the justices.” 

The nine justices filed back into the room and Justice Anderson smiled briefly at them, her own eyes red-rimmed and puffy as she stared out at the gallery, before beckoning them to sit down. 

“Shall we begin?” 

The Clerk nodded, “I hereby recommence the trial of The People of the United States vs. James Buchanan Barnes, the time is 12:33, you may begin.” 

Richards rose to his feet, walking over to Bucky’s dock, and the smugness that was held in his gait made Steve want to round the gate separating the gallery and the main courtroom and knock his teeth out. 

“Earlier during your testimony, you stated that your memory is not at full capacity. How much do you remember?” Richars questioned. 

“Not a lot, only significant events. Erm, birthdays, first kisses, first relationship. The day I got enlisted. And… Steve. I remember Steve.” 

The man in question made a soft noise of pain, a whimper-like sound, and squeezed Tony’s hand that bit tighter, gaze trained on the brunet as he spoke, trying to determine how much Bucky remembered- beyond what he had already told Steve both at the Raft and in the courtroom.

“So, you don’t remember the people that you killed?” Richards questioned and Bucky recoiled in shock, drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth. 

“I- Sorry?” Bucky whispered, eyes shining with tears and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Steve clenched his free hand into a fist, pressing it into the bench with an ominous crack. Natasha caught the movement and coaxed his hand away from the bench, peeling his fingers out of a fist and wrapping them around her hand instead. Steve squeezed her fingers, her hand warm, even in comparison to his own. On Steve’s left side, Tony squeezed his fingers, rubbing his thumb across the back of Steve’s hand and the blond allowed the action to ground him. 

“Harrison Fitzgerald?! Floyd P. Jefferson?! Countless unnamed victims at the site of a bombing on an  _ orphanage _ ?! Do you remember that? Do you remember killing innocent children?!” 

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell what I remember and what I don’t. Only the prominent memories, the ones that  _ mean  _ something, are the ones that spring to mind,” Bucky attempted to explain, voice quivering with every word spoken. 

“Are the murders of innocent people not prominent enough for you then? Were their lives not important to you?!” Richards spat. 

Steve nearly leapt out of his seat and he would have it wasn’t for Natasha and Tony keeping him seated with their hands firmly in his grasp, allowing him to squeeze them as tight as he needed. If he caught Richards on the street, there would be hell to pay- he didn’t care about what it would do for Captain America’s image.

“I can’t control what I remember. I suffered 70 years of torture at the hands of HYDRA, my body and my mind are not gonna want to remember every moment of my time spent in their clutches. I’m not gonna remember all the bad memories; the murders that they  _ made  _ me commit; the torture that they put me through to make me a good soldier, to make me obedient. So, I’m sorry, that I don’t remember every detail that you want me to, just so you can pin the blame on me for something that I had no control over!” Bucky ranted and Steve felt a swell of pride for the other supersoldier at sticking up for himself. 

"So, you don't remember slitting David Birch’s throat while his daughter watched?" Richards arched an eyebrow, leaning forward on Bucky’s dock.

"OBJECTION, YOUR HONOR!” Pamela roared at the same time that Justice Anderson snarled at Richards. 

“MR. RICHARDS, WATCH WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!” She bellowed, “ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE AND I WILL DISMISS YOU!”

“I’m just trying to establish the extent of the Winter Soldier’s memories, your honor,” Richards replied innocently. 

“Well, I hate to break it you, pal, but that ain’t the fucking Winter Soldier,” Steve snarled, vibrating with the force of his anger. If Richards said another word out of line, Steve was going to lose it. 

Justice Anderson shook her head in disapproval, “If you are to do so, be less aggressive about it, we are here to get the truth- not to cause the defendant any unnecessary stress, which is what you are doing. So, choose your next words wisely.” 

“Yes, your honor,” Richards placated. “Of course.” 

Justice Anderson nodded in thanks and motioned for him to continue, fury still evident in her eyes, but much more restrained now that Richards had gotten his wits about him.

“When did you first kill someone, Mr. Barnes?” Richards questioned. 

“In 1943, dickhead,” Tony snarled, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening just briefly as his anger flared up. “When he was fighting in World War fucking Two to protect our country.” 

“I’m not sure, I think during the war? Must’ve been a Nazi, I’m sure. Since that’s who we were fighting at the time,” Bucky was aiming to lighten the mood; anyone with ears could tell that, and there was a cacophony of uneasy laughter that spread through the room in lieu of the part-joke. 

“Was it not Lucinda Birch and her father, David, then?” Richards questioned. 

“Objection, your honor, the prosecution asked an open question and is trying to lead the defendant.” 

“No, I am simply fact-checking, your honor,” Richards replied. 

“No, you’re not, Mr. Richards, you asked James when he first killed someone and he gave you the correct answer. The first time he took a life was during the war, end of conversation,” Pamela argued. 

Justice Anderson sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Miss Stockbrook is right, Mr. Richards. Please refrain from leading the witness and ask specific questions, please.” 

“Of course, my apologies,” he doesn’t sound very apologetic. “Who was your first kill as the Winter Soldier?” 

“David and Lucinda Birch,” Bucky replied. “Or at least, I think so. That’s what you said at least. I don’t remember.”

“So, you don’t remember slitting his throat while his daughter watched?” Richards spat, lip curled upwards in disgust.

“The Winter Soldier’s first mission was in the late fifties to early sixties- that’s nearly 60 years ago. Even if I hadn’t had my brain messed around with more times than I can count, I’m pretty sure most people can’t remember what happened on a specific day sixty years ago.”

"Nor, then, do you remember killing his innocent daughter?" 

Bucky growled in frustration, tears brimming in his eyes, "Thought we’d already established that I don't?" 

"Therefore, you don't remember taking the life of an innocent child? Or snapping her neck? Do you remember how limp her body was when the life drained from her?" 

"OBJECTION!" Pamela roared. 

"You fucking bastard, how dare you?!" Steve screamed, leaping from his seat and tearing his hands from Tony and Natasha’s grip, ignoring their pleads for him to sit down. Steve saw red, wanting nothing more than to hurdle the gate and give Richards a piece of his mind.

"Captain Rogers, please take a seat." 

"No! I’m sorry, your honor, but I’m not going to sit idly by and let that piece of scum ask those kinds of questions! I’ve stayed quiet long enough,” Steve snarled. 

"Steve, please sit down. I'm okay, I've been asked worse. Just sit down for me, I'm fine," Bucky soothed from the dock, fingers twitching like he ached to reach out the man. 

"Buck…" Steve breathed, hesitating, and he saw the pleading look that Bucky threw at Tony, trying and failing to ignore the calming hand that Tony placed on his wrist, rubbing his pulsepoint in an attempt to coax him back into his seat. Steve tried to ignore him. 

"Sit down, babydoll, please? The man's just doing his job." 

“He can do it with a bit more fucking compassion!” Steve growled, glaring at Richards when he turned to look at him. 

“Captain Rogers, please calm down or leave my courtroom,” Justice Anderson urged. 

“Steviedoll, please. I need you here, okay? Just stay calm, for me?” Bucky begged and sighed in relief when Steve reluctantly nodded, lowering himself back down into his seat, slumping against Tony for support. 

“Look after him, Tony, please?” 

“Always,” Tony replied, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and keeping a placating hand on the blond’s wrist, rubbing his thumb into his pulsepoint. Steve practically melted against him. 

“Please continue, Mr. Richards, but anymore questions like the ones that you have been asking and I  _ will  _ be asking security to lead you from the building,” Justice Anderson urged. 

“Of course,” Richards replied, stepping away from the dock to return to his desk. “Then, I have no further questions, your honor.” 

“Very well, then I ask that you both make closing statements, the prosecution may go first,” Justice Anderson explained. 

Richards nodded, “The defense, over the last few days, has made you believe that the Winter Soldier is a victim, that he has suffered great trauma at the hands of HYDRA and, whilst this is true, he has still committed a great many atrocities against our government and our people. I ask today that you keep that in mind when you are making your deliberations. I ask that you remember the countless lives that the Winter Soldier has taken and that, by letting the man here today walk free, you are not giving the victims of his crimes the justice that they deserve. Thank you.” 

Steve very nearly told him to go fuck himself. Very nearly. But, Tony’s grip on his waist and his wrist tightened in warning and he fell limp again, tiredness settling over him again. 

Pamela, “The prosecution will have you believe that James Barnes is the Winter Soldier, that he deserves to go down for the crimes that HYDRA committed under the name of the Winter Soldier. But, I believe differently. James Barnes is a man who loves, who is kind and compassionate. Who is loyal to his people, to his family and to his country. He is a victim of many years of abuse and neglect. He was brainwashed by an evil organization, as you have seen today with all of the evidence and James’ own memories. I ask that you remember this, that James was not complicit in his actions, that James is not the Winter Soldier for the Winter Soldier was born long before James was. The Winter Soldier is HYDRA, just as the same as SHIELD was HYDRA. Do not condemn an innocent man for the actions of a terrorist organisation. For actions in which he had no control over. Thank you.” 

“Thank you, the Justices will now retire to their chambers in which they will deliberate on a verdict for James Buchanan Barnes. I request that you stay on site, should you need to be called back into the courtroom. You have complete use of the cafe on the upper floors, please get yourself some refreshments and take the time to think about everything we have seen today,” the Clerk explained. “I now call another recess for deliberation in the trial of the People of the United States vs. James Buchanan Barnes, the time is 14:37. Court adjourned. We will return when we are summoned by the Justices.” 

“You may stay seated,” Justice Anderson added as she rose from her seat, leading her colleagues into the back rooms. 


	16. Chpt 15

They were back in the courtroom after two hours of deliberation, the Clerk having recommenced the trial a few minutes prior. 

Steve shuffled anxiously in his seat, tears brimming in his eyes as the Justices muttered between each other for a few moments, trading various sheets of paper between the nine of them. He caught Bucky’s gaze, barely being able to see the other man through the wall of tears, but he felt it in his bones that Bucky was throwing his unwavering support at him. Somewhere in the distance, he felt Tony’ arm wrap around his waist, pulling him further towards the warmth of his body and nearly into his lap. Steve probably looked a mess, clinging to Tony like a lifeline with tears in his eyes and a heavy feeling building in his chest. 

Steve’s heart was racing and his stomach was turning on itself, making him feel nauseous and shaky. If he felt like this, he could only imagine how Bucky must feel and that made him feel infinitely worse. 

“He’s gonna be okay, you both are. I promise,” Tony soothed, his voice soft. “If these Justices have any sense about them, then they’ll prove Bucky not guilty. You and Bucky are both going to be okay.” 

Steve nodded, feeling both numb and emotional at the same time- everything simultaneously too much and not enough. Everything seemed to become muted, however, when Justice Anderson rose to her feet, looking out at the gallery with tears in his eyes. There was a faint buzzing in his ears as she began to speak, his every sense dialed into the sound of her voice and the words tumbling from her lips. 

“We the Justices find the defendant not guilty in all charges. He will be immediately released from custody and court is adjourned.”

Steve sagged, the tension bleeding from his shoulders like someone had turned on a faucet, and a bright grin spread across his face, disbelieving laughter falling from his lips. Bucky, across the room, broke into tears, sobbing brokenly, but there was a smile on his face, even brighter than Steve’s.

Steve turned to Tony’s wrapping his arms around the engineer’s shoulders and pulling him in for a tight hug, burying his face in Tony’s neck. Tony laughed and wrapped both arms around his waist, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his back as Steve sobbed into his neck. 

Bucky was free- he was safe. They were okay. 

  
  
  
  


Steve, Tony, Sam and Nat were in a sidealley, two non-descript cars waiting for them a few feet away, and were talking amongst themselves, a buzz of anticipation settling over them as they kept on eye out for the first glimpse of Bucky. 

Natasha was the first to spot him, eyes going wide and a small smile spreading across her lips as she turned on her heel and trotted over to him. She came to a stop in front of the brunet and promptly smacked him across the face, his head turning with the force of her hit. 

There were shocked gasps from the other Avengers in attendance, but Bucky smirked, casting an amused look at her as he straightened himself out. 

“ _ That  _ was for turning yourself in without warning,” she hissed and grinned before pulling him into a tight hug, burying her head in his chest. “That’s for making it out and proving your innocence. It’s good to have you back,  _ Yasha _ .” 

Bucky snorted into her hair, squeezing her briefly before pulling away, “It’s good to be back,  _ Natalia _ .”

“Come on,” she ordered, softly squeezing his wrist as she fully stepped away. “Let’s go home.” 

As she pulled open the door and slipped into the car, Sam stepped up and followed her in, giving Bucky a brief congratulatory pat on the shoulder. Bucky smiled in thanks and wandered over to where Steve and Tony were lingering. 

“Hey,” Bucky breathed as he came to a stop in front of the two men. “So, here I am.” 

“Here you are,” Steve whispered, a dark, heated look in his eyes as he dragged his eyes over Bucky’s prison-grade uniform. 

Bucky grinned and turned to Tony, “Would Steve and I be able to take this car back to the Tower alone?” 

Tony recoiled briefly, sadness flitting across his gaze before he erected a fake smile and nodded, “Sure.” 

Bucky felt a pang of sadness as he watched Tony walk away, wishing that he could talk to the engineer, but he and Steve had a lot to discuss. Bucky wandered over to the door, pulling it open and motioning for Steve to get in first. 

“Ever the gentleman,” Steve teased as he slipped into his seat, Bucky following closely after him, shutting the door behind him with a soft yank. 

“My ma raised me right, Rogers, you know that,” Bucky retorted, chuckling softly when Steve rolled his eyes. 

They fell silent for a moment, simply relishing in the ability to be in each other’s company, but it was Bucky that spoke up first, “So, Stark, huh?” 

Steve’s head snapped up and he flushed a pretty red colour, fiddling with his fingers as he shrugged, “I don’t know- what? I mean, um, I don’t like- he’s not- we’re not. Bucky, I-”

The brunet took pity on him, resting a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly in reassurance, “I feel the same, Stevie. You aren’t alone in this.” 

“But, Ma always taught us to be monogamous,” Steve protested. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “This isn’t the 40s anymore, honey,” he whispered, lifting his hands to cup Steve’s cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across Steve’s cheekbones. “Babydoll, I know you have enough room in that heart for two people. I know that you can love us both, and I feel the same. I want to share you, I want to share  _ us  _ with Stark. Is that what you want? Tell me that’s what you want, honey, and we can have it.” 

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut and he nodded weakly, “I do, Buck, but we need to get Tony on board.” 

“Sweetheart, I saw the way Tony dealt with you during the trial- he’s already on board,” Bucky replied, leaning forward to press against Steve’s nose, grinning when the other man leant into it with a soft sigh. 

“So, we talk to him?” The blond whispered. 

“As soon as we get back to the Tower, I want this as bad as you do, honey. The sooner we can talk about it, the better.” 

Steve nodded, a small grin spreading across his lips, “Yeah, okay.” 

Bucky shifted closer, pressing his left side as close to Steve as he could, keeping his hand settled firmly on the blond’s thigh, and they spent the rest of the journey wrapped in each other, hardly able to tell where one began and the other ended. 

When they got back to the Tower, they went straight to their floor- given to them following the fight with Thanos a year prior- and Bucky immediately stripped out of the horrible blue uniform from the Raft, wandering into the bedroom to retrieve a pair of loose-fitting joggers and a tight t-shirt. 

He looked utterly delectable when he returned, pants riding low on his hips, leaving a delicious strip of skin exposed from beneath the hemline of his t-shirt. Steve went a little light-headed and he swallowed roughly, fists clenching at his sides as he fought against reaching out to the brunet. 

“C’mere,” Bucky whispered, crooking his finger at the blond and grinning when his gaze darkened at the action. “You’ve waited long enough.” 

Steve  _ whimpered _ and stepped into Bucky’s personal space, allowing himself to be manhandled into a heated kiss. Bucky smashed their mouths together, one hand on his hips whilst the other gripped at his jaw, holding him still as he forced his tongue into Steve’s mouth, gently caressing his tongue with his own. 

They pulled away when a shocked gasp resounded through the room, originating from the front door, and Bucky turned towards the intruder with a lazy smirk which slowly morphed into a devilish grin when he was met with a wide-eyed Tony. 

The engineer sighed heavily, eyelids drooping as he frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He shuffled from one foot to the other, keeping his gaze locked on the floor beneath his feet, and his shoulders slumped in defeat- all of the usual arrogance and certainty bleeding from his body, paving the way for insecurity. 

“I should, um-” Tony pointed to the door behind him. “I’ll leave you to get reunited. Sorry for barging in.” 

Bucky turned back to Steve, arching an eyebrow at him, a silent question of  _ shall we do this now _ ? When Steve nodded, Bucky reached a hand out, wrapping it around Tony’s wrist, and tugged the engineer back into the room. 

“Don’t go,” Bucky urged. “We wanted to talk with you.” 

Tony arched an eyebrow at him, the hints of a smirk on his lips as he lifted his gaze from the floor to stare into Bucky’s eyes. “You did, huh?” 

“We did,” Steve replied, coming to stand behind Bucky’s right shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him ever closer. 

Bucky looked up at him with a loving smile before turning to Tony, the expression not dropping for a single moment, staring at Tony with the same soft eyes and goofy smile. “Stevie and I were talking on the way home from the courtroom,” Bucky began. “I was tellin’ him how proud I was of the both of you, lookin’ after each other so well. But, we got talking about how we felt about you and, if you’d want it, we’d like to have you.” 

“Have me?” Tony spluttered, eyes wide. 

“As our lover, our  _ boyfriend _ . We want to share with you, we want you to be with us, share our life and our love. We want you, Tony, and we’ll have you if you just say yes,” Steve explained, a hopeful look settling in his eyes as he stared down at the engineer who had fallen silent and stock-still. 

“You want  _ me _ ?” Tony whispered, eyes wide with shock and the insecurity and disbelief in his voice made Bucky want to hurt whoever had made him feel so bad about himself. “Both of you?” 

“Of course we do, sweetheart,” Bucky soothed. “Do you want us?” 

Tony whimpered at the nickname and the tone of Bucky’s voice- sweet and thick like honey, soothing his aches and pains, chipping away at the darkness and flooding his body with indescribable light. 

“ _ Fuck, _ ” Tony hissed, dropping his gaze to the floor and nodding softly. “I want. Please.” 

Steve and Bucky shared matching looks of confirmation before they crowded Tony back against the wall, grinning at the wide-eyed, heated look that he gave them, head dropping back against the wall with a loud  _ thunk _ as he exposed the column of his throat- Bucky wanted to mark up the pale skin, but that could wait. 

“Then, you’ve got us,” Bucky whispered, dropping a kiss to Tony’s left cheek as Steve planted one on his right. 

  
  



End file.
